What sights pass before them:
a parade ground
of the incarcerated
taking exercise
like lepers.
A plague of the condemned
sentenced without trial.
The media spews air-raid warnings
where homes
are the only shelters,
in a reversal of roles.
Closed doors
are drawbridges
warding off attack
from unseen assailants
and the breath of strangers.
Lovers, separated by balconies,
are echoed Romeos –
lest the distance police attend
their prenuptial perambulations.
The trees are watching
this is something new.