Death came to Madrid "De Madrid al cielo, y, en el cielo, una ventanilla para ver Madrid”

Today, a scent of spring, a pulse of blossoms,

as if the sun and blue skies gathered head

to gain and flood a dropped crime rate, silence- 

A burst of death surged through the city fast.

A gash breaks open the old peoples’ homes, the clinics,

an Eastern wind blows the incoming threat. 

Coffins pile up in churches, while the young

still dance with disco lights on balconies.

Politicians fall right at the top, surrender.

Units of isolated people learn to cooperate.

Some stitch together makeshift masks and line up

two meters from each other, well apart

But pigeons are still fed, outlive the plague. 

Rats hog deserted streets, a wild boar rummages 

for scraps of food. The straying old

are gently urged back home to stay inside.

An unseen fog creeps silently among the people,

erodes and decimates all sense of safety

The sounds of sirens pierce untreated pain.

The battering ram of ambulances races, 

a peek from windows, borders to outside, 

beyond the safety glass, sucked up, accepted

and spat out with another victim’s face.