Poetry

"Anything is subject for a poem:
A catalog of boxing equipment, a collage of other poems,
Serpentine trail of incense, raised deer fur, old shoes pointed pigeon-toed,
Glass and steel cityscape, almond eyes of a saint, weeping of tiny flowers,
Sunlight on whitewashed walls, blue shadows of stooped women,
A sprung mouse trap, a trickle of blood in the gutter,
The homing swoop of a gull, chill whitecapped bay, scent of eucalyptus.
Green lawn of broken blades, clods of fat earth,
Anything is subject for a poem.

Even in sleep, write a poem.
When waking, write a poem.
While loving, write a poem.
Even voting, write a poem.
When angry, write a poem.
While dreaming, write a poem."

"Even voting, write a poem." If I had a poem in me right now, I would write about that point of light in the future where we could look back at this dreadful time and see it as a step toward making our country stronger, better, more loving...more healed. This country needs to heal from the wounds of its past. There is no moving forward without that healing, once and for all.