May 28, 2021

A hole in the sky, an axe, a death count.

Empty sky. 

Picture a hole in the sky

Where new dreams drip down.

Like rain. 


Picture everything that grows 

Drinking these dreams. 

That’s love. 


Picture your face

All wet and smiling. 

That’s life.


I did not make the axe, 

And I did not grow the tree, 

But with sweat and muscle 

I connected the two. 

Tool and work. 

Effort and result. 

The patterns of living 

Among the humanoids. 


First coffee. A news reporter announces the COVID-19 deaths of the day before. Thousands. My wife is still asleep and for a moment I go and watch her.


Sanctuary, by Darren Moore

When you use the term minority or minorities in reference to people, you're telling them that they're less than somebody else.

-Gwendolyn Brooks

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