Monday, April 15, 2013

Boston’s saddest marathon

Flying flags united
At the finish line
Runners run
Their big run
Spring cradles
Happy smiles
Patriotic shouts
Of a city’s day out
Hearts pounce
Trying to reach
That finish line
Only to find at last
Just a blast
A globe of smoke
Colored white
And instantly
The colors
Flush away
From faces
By the monotone
Of sadness
Was not a medal
At that finish line
As we cry for Boston
As we cry for peace