Today's poem is by Sherwin Bitsui

Snare
       

The seizure seizes him
in this sun-bleached
zip-code, carries him
across the threshold
of their shared abode.

On the flat screen:
flame-crowned rooftops;
hillsides leveled under ash.

Their credit cards maxed-out,
the gods search for porches
to rest their ankles on,
roofbeams that prefer
their scent        erased.

However dry and red
their eyes get,
they pass binoculars
between them,
and continue
to watch him
grow pale then flail
on the ceremonial ground.

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Copyright © 2023 Sherwin Bitsui All rights reserved
from Poetry London
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission