senseless acts
so many whys
under a heavy knee
a good man dies

and the haters hate
and the extremists seethe
and our country falters
when good men can’t breathe

vigilante killers 
spread extremist lies
blood on racist hands
a good soul dies

lost, grieving families
are shattered
thoughts and prayers
hardly mattered

who did this?
why did he hate?
what was his name?
what were the motives?
on hallowed ground
flowers are laid
with flickering votives

why my beloved country
have we not resolved
inequality and hatefulness
why when we need them most
have our leaders dissolved?

tears pour out
from so many eyes
our own children afraid
when a good person dies

can’t hold back this flood
as another dies
in a river of blood

a great nation cries

too many are gone
too many whys
an ocean of tears

pours forth
from American eyes

© Brooks Bradbury 2020 | BrookLooks

walking through
the grounds
of the old inn
here in town
sad to see the
shades were drawn
guests were gone

fast peeling paint
and a great old inn
is a bit less quaint
and a bit more old

it had bustled with life once
celebrations of love
were held in the dining room
and in guestrooms above
fine meals were savored
first dates were held
wedding parties danced
where happiness dwelled

now but a shell
of what it once was
an inn has died
perhaps because
of a focus lost
or changing winds
or foreboding times
for country inns

my soul still haunts these
authentic old inns 
along winding back roads
where the country begins

kindly innholders
welcome each guest
on creaky floors
to a comfortable rest
generous spirits
where joy is expressed
forever, we will love
old inns the best

we would drive on for miles
past motels and chains
in search of a place
that still retains
the spirit of welcome
and human kindness
in full measure
we find it here
life’s real treasure
lies within
the best place to be
is at an old country inn

© Copyright 2020 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks