Getting caught in a protest, Lille, France

Around the corner from the Queen Victoria,

Where the street, touched by spring rain, split the light of day,

I walked beneath the cries coming from the balconies �"

loud and demanding.

 

Below, the crowd of youthful passion: strikers moving in fresh shadows,

unflinching in physical prayer, held their hands in their breath,

Ready to exhale upon the hands that feed them

Their Bread of Liberty, which they are given nothing more than crumbs.

 

In the distance, I see police with Battens and shields �"

the government’s protectors standing firm and stoic.

A photographer takes a picture of their stony faces...

 

Then, from nowhere, tear gas is thrown, masking the air with its vanity.

In a panic, the crowd retreats with the crumbs of their dream,

Still slaves to themselves.

Reviews

[Betty Hermelee]

You can never win; it seems that even loud quiet protestors, minding their own business, get snagged by police ,their hopes and dreams shattered; their whispered words now silenced by those who don't even understand what the protest was about.....nice!
Best, B