48 Readings | 1 Rating


Even waking up to more pain,

to the limits of my empathy,

another day in a world made for people 

like me, even in this sour dawn, 

thumbing through headlines

dissolving at each day’s breaking,

even now, the whistles reach my ear,

harbingers of a layer of light underneath. 

Agapanthus plants

firework out silently, 

quiet fire taking a knee, 

white and purple flowers,

bowing in reverence. 

I try to keep up

with the news, try to stop

and smell the flowers, nuzzle 

the back of my baby’s neck, meaningless 

love pulsating in every small action.

Call up the light, even the potential of light. 

How can anyone hold on

while the flowers unfurl so fast? 

How can anyone remember 

that birds begin their songs in the dark?

Posted 07/22/20
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