Sycamore babies twirl hard to the ground

echo the death fall of a doomed black hawk down,

see the mare’s tail

it drift with an ease

 accustomed to yellow grass

fondled by breeze.

Sun is set

and I remain here.

Frozen in time.

A time when we knew us.

A time when the sun shone

long in the day, smudging

its shadows, begging to stay

in our hearts.

Malevolent voices

chatter in time,

to the bomb that is ticking

interred in my mind,

they collude.

A team of demons.

Pushing and throbbing their way to the front

brain racing fearful, a deer in the hunt

eyes grow wide.

I can feel it.

Climbing inside,

wearing my skin and tasting my breath

hidden in plain sight, a minion of death.

Sun is set

and I remain here.

Numb in surrender,

death rattled defeat

fading with shadows long in the street.