Practicing Piano

The soldiers move from block to block
breach, sweep, clear, advance,
and in the air tonight I hear
a piano practicing Amazing Grace –
how sweet the sound, how sweet the sound –
shells fall in the distance,
as sirens blare and beat the air
and the A-minor slips to chaos,
recovers,
the soldiers rat-tat-tat the walls
with rifles trained to reflex –
these are no paper targets, now,
they bleed,
they scream,
and now the practicing is done,
and all that’s left is chaos

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