It was just another day and a routine duty at his post

It was a duty just like the one before it: saving lives

He’d scanned the arrival and departure of customers,
all brisk and gaiety, with their smiles and frown as the
mood dictates their countenance; just another day
at his duty post

Thus the minutes crawls to hours and the hours
were drawing close to another day, another fine day
The noonday sun burns fiercely against the paved 
concrete thoroughfare in the courtyard, radiating
the heat all around him, simmering upon the cars
crawling into the yard

Their occupants beaming with smiles for another
successful financial transaction at the bank
The fumes of burnt diesel from exhausts mingled
with the simmering waves in the air created
an artificial cloudy haze in the courtyard
Yet he stood at his post

In a fashion liken to a slow motion movie
he watched, transfixed, as the next vehicle
came into the yard, with its occupants
brandishing their rifles and jumping out
But reflection took the best of him as he
rolled sideways, reaching for his gun

The courtyard was transformed into 
a theater of murderous rain of burning
leads and the sound of exploding gunshots
He couldn’t make out any shape or felt pain
as he twist and turned with fingers coiled 
around the trigger

When the shots ceased and the cloud cleared
he was grateful to be in one piece, but not so 
for two others lying lifeless on the pavement
His last thought as they wheeled him into the 
ambulance was about his wife and his baby
It’s just another day; another routine duty