White bird

I'm watching as a bird wheels against a sky
that bruises dark grey,
ominous and brewing.
The bird is lit bright white from a sun that's about to go in,
a jarring
tick against the gloom.
We woke this morning to another scroll through news stories,
of sadness, death and fear.
What a world we've become.
Where people who love, help, aid,
are punished through a swelling of hate.
It's become expected to find an atrocity flash up
on phones that we blindly stab at,
lurching from one story to the next.
They say hope not hate,
but some mornings it's hard to breathe.
A growing fear sweeps the country.
Innocent people are suddenly the enemy.
Clouds roll in.
We need to encourage togetherness,
safety,
a feeling of optimism.
Otherwise what else have we got?
The bird sweeps in circles,
the sun goes in;
the bird blends into the grey.

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