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Trees, Bees and Weeds 25 Poems. Click on image to order.
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Trees, Bees and Weeds 25 Poems. Click on image to order.

Too Many Wars

Shots rang out, first two then three, so near!
Muffled by the walls of our apartment.
Quietness settled in as we wondered in fear.
Was there a murder or burglary in progress?
Should I call 911 or wait for sirens I knew we would hear.

There was only silence, like a calm before the fray.
Three more shots, much louder this time.
Just outside our apartment, maybe in the hallway.
911, I dialed in a hurry, my hand shaking with fear.
I tried to explain, but my voice broke, It's OK, help is on the way!

A loud crash, I jerked the phone away, shook to the core.
Are you OK? Came a quick response on the line.
I whispered, were OK, I believe it's next door.
We waited as wild thoughts blurred our minds.
Silence once again, no more loud music from our neighbor.

Once again shots rang out, too many to count! Where's a cop.
We could hear groans through the walls from next door.
Please hurry, someone has been shot and it may not stop.
Quiet again for what seemed like an eternity.
Then one single shot muffled like the first, POP!

We waited, ten, twenty minutes or more. Lying on the floor.
Then the sounds of sirens coming from all directions.
A bull horn barred, stay in your apartments, and away from the door!
I could see through the window the swat team taking position.
As I gave the operator our apartment number and floor.

And the couple next door, I think their name is Smith.
A robot broke down the shooters door, he lay dead on the floor.
Loss of wife, ranch, terrible things Frank experience from birth.
Three tours in Iraq and Afghanistan and he could not leave it there.
When going to war, don't do anything you can't live with.

--Hubert Crowell

2010 Hubert C. Crowell