Memories flee of those grand’ ole days when upon a war’s end they embraced strangers strolling on a frozen avenue littered with joy and relief for the uniforms. Riots overtook the tree lined grassy knolls where eternal learners cried for a renewal to only fall in tiny pools of crimson rivers dreams shattered for another generation. Animals hungry for a senseless fight gather their teeth and claws drooling with pasty slime leaving trails of a hateful contagion behind a poison few can avoid in darkest times. No one sits on porches any longer most stay glued to strange images of dissent while balustrades rot in perpetual abandon where have all the hearts gone, she asked. Alone as if trapped between infinite scrapers she seeks traces of joyful moments sadly lost in times of such terminal turmoil those absent seek only reason to breed death of the gentle.
©2021 Fabrice Poussin
All rights reserved