Snowflakes
When the snow came down it was ash
A grey cloud of dancing flakes
Settling in the winter sun
Shapes became shapeless
A car became a war machine
A lamppost, an anti-aircraft gun
A shop that sold sweets was a place to hide
From ash-covered children or secret police
From toy lightsabers or batons
Or fully automatic water pistols
Spraying showers of metal shrapnel
Hidden inside little water droplets.
When the snow came down it was blood
A red cloud of misting rage
Descending on the people
Regardless of age or mobility
Generating hostility over generations
A clenched fist on the side of the road
A raised hand in a crowd, one of thousands
Flies settling on the dead, no time for shrouds
Bullets crossing streets, police
Lowering visors, taking aim
Blood following blood, the city
Blanketed, carpeted in a warm glow of pain.