Until

Tonight

even the crickets are silent

as if they felt the earth

quake from rifle shots

each one landing louder than the last.

Only the echoes of my footsteps on the pavement

cut through the night sky

a row of houses holding their breath

waiting hoping praying

for anything, something

to happen.

As if you can blink away the guns

hide in cookie cutter neighborhoods

until things die down

until someone else solves the problem

until another shot pierces through your window.