Beauty is under surveillance
The night-watchers are in keep
The guns are being cocked
The clocks are already timed
And their watches synchronized to a T.
They walk the streets day and night
In their droves of silence. Only the rain
You can hear.
They wait; searching in cafés,
In bars and clubs, restaurants alike,
Anywhere sociable.
They even wait in people's homes
Till that certain person or persons
They are looking for arrives or not.
They wait and sometimes wait and wait.
If you look out of your window
You can see
The snipers in the trees.
You can see them standing
On the rooftops
In their long black raincoats.
At night all you see is the
Search-lights parading up and down
The streets and onto people's homes;
Evading their privacy,
Trespassing their minds.

©Jack Aylward