on a perfect day
 with music following us
 on every corner
 
 i sometimes get trapped
 in thoughts of poverty, loss
 (also on corners)
 
 my girls all grinning
 taking pics and buying gifts–
 the perfect white life
 
 yet anger jumps out
 from car windows and bar doors,
 a cruel reminder:
 
 we’re not all equal.
 some of us can ride trolleys,
 take month-long road trips.
 
 others beg for change
 with thin plastic drinking cups
 that they’ll fill later
 
 in all this joy: grief.
 vacations are like heaven
 mixed with sorrow