1994
Fireworks last night
star bursts
flashes in the dark
fleeting
echoing reports
that leave no room for silence.
Sarajevo –
a shudder – there new year
is firing to kill
a thing we know
but cannot know.
2001
At midnight, 2001 began its course.
Short-lived bursts of sparks
vied with the stars.
Illusion.
Inside was warm,
(with friends and a burning hearth),
closed windows dampened out the sounds
but still I know, and do not know,
that out there across the sea
there are no celebratory shots.
And that peace for mankind
is an illusion.
And then there is 2022
and humanity hopes still.
Erika Bizzarri 
Unreality becomes the new normal.
James II
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We do pray for peace . . .
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❤️
Sent from my iPhone
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And humanity hopes still. Yes, we hold tight to hope – and surely we are right to do so.
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What a powerful poem Erika, and you read it beautifully. How to make sense of this senseless killing and destruction, when there is no sense to be made?
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