Wednesday, July 5, 2023

When the risks of our youth
make us wary and stiff,
look, my loves, to the children. 

When cuts that haven’t come
keep us callous and short-sighted,
look, my loves, to the children. 

When imaginary doom
isolates and paralyzes,
look, my loves, to the children. 

When loss hunches our shoulders
and pierces our spines,
look, my loves, to the children:

their open hands and open eyes,
their open arms and open chests
as they run, brazenly forward.

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love notes
a ritual to start the work week