The sun shines shamelessly while our hospitals groan.
A man is arrested by armed police at the end of my road.
A few streets away, another home-made device explodes,
Controlled by experts who know this murderer didn’t act alone.
In the sky above my house, police choppers hover and drone,
Like the worker bees which are this city’s sweet logo,
Because here we are industrious, our work-ethic honed,
To persist despite the rain that is our usual daily moan.
Tomorrow we will rise, will recover our get-go,
But today we are not yet ready to pick over the bones,
Of our city which now feels like a war zone,
Our city where so many will never come home…