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WEDNESDAY, MARCH 11Two big shooting tragedies happened today, one in Europe and one in the United States. Margaret and I went to a play, an old comedy from 1937. Half-an-hour after the sun had gone down we stopped on the way to the theatre in Coronado and I snapped this picture of the city. On another evening it might have seemed a bright, cheerful place; but tonight it looked ominous, like Gotham City in a Batman movie. The poem came out of that feeling. I wasn't in the mood for comedy. In the light of what was happening in the world, the play seemed merely silly.

FEAR OOZES

Fear oozes from cracks in the sidewalk,
slithers, defying the verdure of playing fields,
back and forth across the asphalt city,
slams into the side of the house at midnight.

When a heart locks itself with blind fear,
it is more dangerous than in danger,
lashing out at anything and everything.
Whom can a child trust?