Drone
Dogwood trees, foxtail palms, white sky, blue clouds
a quadcopter buzzes overhead
its beelike hum a cranial shave
(ice from brains)
chopping smoke-thick clouds
polycarbonate or glass-fiber reinforced
cutlass propeller
dual-plated yet light weight
inconspicuously heavy
the world looks (better) upside down
its inhabitants glance to the heavens
at first thought — a helicopter
mid-afternoon, a sure sign of trouble
but second sight discerns
sneering metallic grin
peering through our windows
its one bright eye collecting data
gained through optical zoom and high-def
transmission
draws its own conclusions
(what goes on inside our heads
how long will we keep our secrets)
outside the streets are barren
none have walked their paths for days
the black asphalt is lonely
untouched unloved curious at what it
has done wrong for what ill
it is being punished
who can give blame
worse yet receive it
our leaders toss all responsibility to the sky
let it fall like autumn leaves descending…
