EVENING

It starts getting dark if you believe it is.

Please, the passengers beg.

A crying man is consigned

to the incurable ward.

Bullets break branches off the trees.

The fear is always there,

a black uniform accented with red.

HISTORY IS SILENT

I stand all day on a corner of the avenue of ghosts.

You never know who the assassin might be.

The family I used to visit no longer exists.

A man wearing a Spanish cloak just like mine

wonders when it’s going to happen to him.

Maybe the rain answers, maybe not.

© Howie Good

Howie Good, a journalism professor at SUNY New Paltz, is the author of the full-length poetry collections Lovesick (Press Americana, 2009), Heart With a Dirty Windshield (BeWrite Books, 2010), and Everything Reminds Me of Me (Desperanto, 2011).