This separation from the source a slide
impressionable minds in toxic sludge.
Inevitable, no hope for this ride.
We’re inside out, we’re captured in a smudge
believing these dark nightmares will not budge.
Poem-lanterns illuminate the mean
faces of actors urging us to judge
victims fleeing apocalyptic scene.
We hear the planes from deep within the green
green park, grandson and I, a sweet fall stroll.
Barrage of bullets, shooting range unseen.
Peace shattered, run, he cries, and so we go.
We bring the world with us, what precious gift
for our grandchildren have we set adrift?
Written for a prompt for #OctPoWriMo Day 26 Inside Out, and inspired by: Separation, Lantern, Impressionable, Toxic, and Slide. I saw the prompt to write a sonnet and thought, oh, yeah, that will happen in my strictly-enforced one hour writing flow. (I’d insert shrug emoji, if I had the tech savvy.)