Silent spires stretching to sabbath skies,
Shuttered openings watch with unseeing stare,
Softly scan empty terrace and desolate street,
Search and say, is the city dead or are we?

Clouds waft over calm cities and cool countrysides,
Noting the noiseless roads and vacant lots.
Wonder with thoughtful gaze as they wander around,
Is humanity lost or just learning again to sleep!

*Friday Fictioneers is talented group of enthusiasts penning down a story, a poem, a prose, etc., expressing their heart about a photo prompt © Roger Bultot