The wind is soft and breaths in steady tones,

And calms the empty streets, so sapped of noise.

The grass is granted leave from steps, and moans

About the shamed neglect from girls and boys.

 

As Summer fades and Fall approaches fast, 

The clock ticks quicker suddenly, how drab

That time escapes, we count until the last 

Of it is drained; an ever-growing scab.

 

The people flood the streets with tainted souls

With hate and anger: Floyd’s last breath is spent.

They walk and march and plead and cry; with poles

They raise a banner asking to repent.

 

I watch. My window keeps me safe and sound,

The world is clear and wild, my duty bound.