Another Victim
I don’t know why
he’s acted strangely for days.
Secretive. Nervous.
His haunted eyes evade mine
and he shrinks from my embrace.
In bed, he faces the other way
and gets up before the break of day.
His smile has crumpled into a frown,
he pretends to read but is brooding,
trying to hide the mood he’s in.
From me he’s closed down.
He brought be morning tea before the alarm.
A warmth broke through his cloud
as he whispered words aloud
that he loved me.
He said all would be fine and
how sorry he was.
He kissed my head before leaving,
couldn’t plan for the evening.
He’d have known he’d be dead
after renting a car
mowing scores of innocents down
and I don’t know why.