They lurk on rooftops, bare teeth growling
at the injustice of their eviction;
black shadows, formless, featureless, prowling,
leaping from chimney to chimney, marred by restriction.
Below, the innocent know not of their impending end:
sounds, shapes, noise and laughter mingle,
their bays of stupidity with the warm air blend,
unaware of their future on rooftop-shingle.
Trundling trams tremble on well-trodden tracks
weaving their way through unsuspecting crowds;
colorful, gay, all is life, nothing lacks,
when suddenly death breaks through the clouds.
A body, wrenched asunder by unseeing fate,
a lone handbag testifying its final loss,
the mewing people, the screams too late,
the tramdriver makes a silent cross.
A new black shadow now lunges up there,
grimacing, howling in pain as the rest,
flung from life into mid-air,
one with the darkness, removed from the blesed.