Shontay Luna
The night was on edge,
for I thought of her and
she appeared, suddenly.
Though I should’ve been
surprised, I wasn’t. I didn’t think
she’d like the area better than
our old one, but she did. Singing
it’s praises right before a hail of bullets.
That hammered in their presence
while my frantic hands pulled us to the
kitchen floor. I didn’t want her to go
investigate what happened.
But she said being a reporter, see had to go
see. The last I saw of before the slicing of the blade.
In search of all the bullets didn’t reach. I write her eulogy:
the final words –
“She is beautiful and may God rest her soul”.
Shontay Luna
