The Angry Sirocco

Suddenly as a turned page
(did we skip a beat, 
fail an abracadabra?)
Englewood's Sirocco turns to rage.

Malice knows the news,
its nape-hair had a hunch,
the doors of its iron cage
open an innocent inch.

Brooding hearts, asleep in strings,
shudder alive and biddable as passion.
Sudden understanding, 
brighter than the sky
stirs us to action.

		* * *

Memory asks from afar,
from the dreary windfall
tending our wounds and sorrows,
afraid for our innocence: What did we do,
whose blood is on our clothes,
and who our new friends are?