If I were still in the office

maybe all this would

affect me less.

I would be worrying about

making the headline fit,

or whether someone would

change it further up the line,

cutting the copy to fill

 

the space, doing it all

within the deadline.

A big political resignation?

My role to make the page work,

the pictures have impact.

Yes, I worked at a leading

newspaper, but I was part

of the process, not my job

 

to debate the whys and

wherefores. Those wars

in the Balkans? They

weren’t my department.

The first foreign journalist

was killed the other day. 

Now I’m an old man

with time on my hands,

 

with time to think,

surfing the net,

reading every story,

long years of experience,

knowing what it means.

And my blood runs cold.

And I wake every morning

with a chill in my bones.