It’s been a strange week in our neighborhood.  Fall is getting into full swing, and the trees are glorious.  At the same time, there have been a spate of break-ins, the most recent of which turned deadly for one of those doing the breaking-in.  I end up feeling sad and angry more than scared.  I hate the waste – of life, of hope – and the toll that events like this take on an entire community.  I feel for the homeowners, too – so tired of wondering if they are safe within their own four walls.  Thank God for the leaves amid the sadness.  And for all who care. (To share with friends at the dVerse Poets Pub).



They wrapped our street in yellow tape today
and turned the sky the colors of the flag

a stain of red, depression blue, and white
for a surrender that went unheeded.

Tracker dogs are nosing down the alley
while a shit-scared juvenile lies bleeding

in an ambulance, blinking back his friends,
the ones that escaped, the one that didn’t.

And no one will say for sure what went down
how many broke in, or how he found them.

I imagine the cries, the deadly force,
the chaos and bile spattered on a floor.

Some might say the young man had it coming
but I think something just died in us all.



About Andrew Kreider

I'm a poet and musician,transplanted from London, England to beautiful northern Indiana. By day I am a stay-at-home dad with our three kids while my amazingly talented spouse conquers medical school one long shift at a time. At night, I'm a performer and trouble-maker. I love my life.

5 responses »

  1. Oh Andrew, that is so sad. Something does die in all of us, when a life is lost. This was a beautiful tribute–love how you tied all the colors together in your poem and especially enjoyed that photo bright blue sky with yellow leaves–lovely.

  2. ugh dude…when it hits close to home like that it can def be scary…to look out the window and see the yellow tape, a reminder that something happened and everyone has their own story on how it went down….

  3. To me it’s a sign of the dissolution of our society into breakdown bigtime–it’s failing, on life support but already to all intents and purposes in a vegetative state–or maybe that would be an improvement…your poem is deft at untangling the blood soaked threads that stick to this wound–very fine writing.

  4. Such a sad story. I could feel the shattering of peace in your neighborhood as I read. I hope that safe feeling is lost forever.

  5. Oh, well done, Andrew. You captured the ambivalence so well and the juxtaposition of color and tragedy. Thank you.


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