The city is
green
It is summer
and it is quiet—right now, at 4:00 pm
If I think
about it
I can recall
the sounds of gunfire
That woke me
up in the middle of the night
The quiet lays
on Minneapolis like a green veil
The city is
restive
The demand
for justice is simmering, now
Seven days
ago, we were at a roiling-boil
I can smell
the ashes lingering—still
The chemical
scent of unnatural fire
Scratching
in my throat
