What Happens Now?

This is probably the closest
I’ve ever been
To a crime scene

The irony
Of watching blood and gore
Horror
On the tv screen
Jump scare

Startled as 20 shots ring
The iron

Definitely woke up the kids
Who run for cover
In the safety of mommy’s bed
We heard loud noises outside

Did you?

I want to go investigate
Fulfilled duty of a concerned neighbor
But I’m already too late

The shell casings have already
Escaped the chamber and
Clanked
On concrete
Committed crime

Traces of violence
The tires screeched
What seems like hours ago
The return to silence

Disrupted again
By police sirens

Casting red and blue
Colored apparitions clashing
On the living room walls

I open the door to real horror

A lady screaming in distress
Angry
At the shooter for being a bitch
At the police for not arriving quick
Enough

At herself
What could she have done
To prevent senseless shit like this
Sick

She has sworn revenge

Squad cars have the block
Blocked at both ends
Officers on foot
Pacing
Swinging their flashlights
In every direction
Scanning the premises
For any evidence

That would help them
track down the perpetrator

There’s another shell casing
By this car
Over here
Directly across the street
From my front porch

I sit
I saw nothing
No witness report offered
I mind my business
Inside my gate

Safe from the yellow and red tape
Partitioning us
From danger

In the morning
I revisit the scene
From my front porch

The tape?
Gone

The police?
Gone

A 28-year old man
Gone

What happens now?

A friendly face passes by
We smile
Say hi

Have a nice day
I exclaim
With intentionally overstated gladness

I wonder if she witnessed the madness
If she stopped to pick up a casing
If she caught a whiff of gun smoke
If the screams of agony still echoed
Through the corridor of row
Homes