This is a poem in memory of a girl whose life was sadly cut short. It happened near to where I live but is all too frequent a happening world-wide. (James Bowman is a counter tenor who sings Dowland (1600s) songs among others. They are very melancholic which was an acceptable and fashionable state of mind in Elizabethan times. )
Outside, the street’s festooned with police incident tape;
inside James Bowman sings “Can She Excuse My Wrongs.”
A knock at the door at midnight; routine questions
from a CID man in a suit. “Sorry for the late hour,
I’ll only keep you a minute.”A few doors away
a 22yr old girl lies unable to excuse any wrongs.
Police cars arrive (headlights dipped) and block
entry and exit to our street. They are still there
in the morning. Policemen appear shamefaced
neighbours stand at front doors unsmiling.
Each of us knows how far we’ve fallen short.
Inside, “Flow My Tears” is on repeat.
All Things Creative 