Police sirens in the background
had been another such sign.
Two separate vehicles raced
down that distant freeway,
having just engaged sirens.
The second police car reacted
only a few seconds from the first.
Initially, communication was dearth.
From it, the mind could not unearth
whether the progress was toward or away
in relation to where the body currently lay.
If it were toward, what did this mean?
Did they know something still unseen?
The ultimate deterioration of the sirens
did not alleviate the unobserved threat.
Certainly, it implied a concern elsewhere,
but, as that whistle related to a crossing,
it said to the mind, simply, "mind you!"
Like those four whistles,
the sirens were nothing new.
The wail of the sirens from the cars
had followed at an uncomfortable pace
the issuance of the whistle from the train.
Certainly, these klaxons had occurred before
and, certainly, they occurred before in succession.
The mind, though, recalled no memory in its vast vault.
YOU ARE READING
Warning Signs
PoetryThings go bump in the night... or did they? Are you heeding the warning signs? Tricks of the mind. Are they tricks? Or reality? That's the problem. Warning: If you're looking for a clear plot. This is not for you. Check out my other books, but not t...
