After rain, or tears, have extinguished 
flames of many candles, diminished now 
to stiff wax puddles from last night or
the one before that.

Flowers wilted on the street, solemn vigil 
is over, but anger remains. Community grief 
is necessary. People hurt together, even 
heal together. When allowed.

Until next night, or the one after that. Another 
mass shooting, traffic stop or another situation 
where race meets hate. Another protest over 
another death. Never changes.

Again and again, lives once lived, stories told,
never-ending headlines. Grief forever knows 
no boundaries. Another night, another life
gone. Hate makes waste.

© 2021 j.g. lewis