Spectacles

There’s a wrong-way car crash on the news.
This seems like news could happen to you.
You drive. You’ve seen mistakes and made some.

Both drivers died. The crushed cars look vile.
There’s another war death on the news.
This seems like news won’t happen to you.

You’ve lived far from bombing all your life.
Murder by spree-killer or handgun
Found by a toddler in mommy’s glove

Seem more like headlines you could sink in,
More like spectacles could swallow you.
But not bombs. Not war. Your sky shines blue.

Keep that sun out of your eyes. That star,
Continually consuming itself,
Without which no life, will scorch your sight.