Execution at the Temple, by Cheney Crow

Execution at the Temple                                                                   
 
The Police Chief
points his gun at the temple of
his prisoner,
whose body is his temple,
falling in the next
frame of the film.
 
In a photo
we can contemplate the image
like an everblooming rose;
 
Each time we look,
the officer fires.
 
In time we become the officer,
the prisoner; we fire or fall.
We become the gun. 
 
We shoot or are shot,
forgetting love might fall like marigold
petals scattered at the
consecration of a temple,
a cloud of colour
 
Touching our faces, outstretched hands,
bodies not torn by shoes
of running crowds, the lips
of strangers.
 
But if we are the bullet?

Cheney Crow

This poem responds to Police Chief Executing Prisoner Saigon, Viet Nam, by Eddie Adams (USA) 1968. Content warning: this photo captures the moment of execution.
 https://www.worldpressphoto.org/collection/photo-contest/1968/eddie-adams/1

​Cheney Crow lives in Austin, TX, where her yard host to raptors and foxes, a mockingbird boasting loud backup beeps, echos of nearby construction. Her work has appeared in The Cortland Review, Terminus, Best of Tupelo Quarterly, International Poetry (translation).  She's been a teacher, a reader for textbook recordings, poll worker, sculptor, musician, photographer, translator, traveler. Thirsty for life.