Sniper Alley

Sniper Alley

Vedran Smailovic plays Albinoni’s Adagio
on a sidewalk,
on a quiet Sarajevo morning,
wearing his finest suit,
his cello leaning its neck
over his shoulder,
as if searching the rooftops
for what audience there might be,
listening.

A mortar shell killed so many who were
waiting in the bread line,
nervously patient,
where flowers now
hang their heads
and fall
piece by piece
to the earth,
as though hushed
only by Vedran’s requiem,
this impossible music.

Listen.
There is nothing romantic about this.
There is a rifle scope
magnifying him in its lens,
reticular crosshatchings
bisecting his body.
There is a rooftop sniper,
not far from here,
who has watched Vedran
come to this place
for over twenty days now,
resting the crosshairs
on his heart,
measuring the distance between them,
how all that is needed
is for a finger to press down,
for one long agonizing note
to rise from it,
stunning.

Brian Turner

Note: In fact, Vedran Smailovic, of the Sarajevo Opera orchestra, actually did risk sniper fire at the site of this attack, playing his cello for 22 consecutive days. (See Sarajevo, A Portrait of the Siege, pp. 46-47)