the moon rules this day
not knowing what happens here
(we wait in shadows)
empty city streets
spring trying to break branches
reaching for its light
another day ends
yet its return is constant
giving us new hope
here are my children
throwing frisbees in the park
(they’ve never done this)
quarantine, day nine:
presidential rampages,
orders to stay home
just look at my son:
showing pup what he can do
with our family
card and board games win
(break news cycle doom and gloom)
We WILL get through this.
trying to find peace
in simple, everyday walks
with green below snow
our lives lived in lines
hoping that this snow will pass
and leave us with spring
i share Bernie’s view
of providing for the poor
so simple, so hard
between this sunrise
painted so perfectly pink
and this steak dinner
lay a fasting day
of walking, planting, napping
fifteen days, hours
a new world view:
a high school stage set with love
inclusive of all
Is there a prettier Denver sunset than this ‘red’ sunset over teachers rallying to strike??
I don’t know what you were thinking, DPS. Did you not realize you are a district in a union-led hotbed of liberals???
Did you think we were going to sit down and shut up??
We’re going to rally. We’re going to win.
Even the sunset says so.
i cry for the card, for his loss,
for his Iraqi-Syrian past,
for all the burning hours of summer school
where he committed himself
to finishing high school in three years.
i cry for his words, for his loss,
his inescapable self that has hidden
a kind face in a chaotic classroom,
his sly smile catching my every
snuck-in witty remark
(even when no one else could).
i cry for the system, for his loss,
shuffled by our government’s wars
between homelands that stole his home,
for his pride in Iraqi architecture
that he may never see again.
i cry for his future, for his loss,
for how unequivocally kind his soul remains
after all he has witnessed in twenty-one years,
for his brothers who wait under his watchful shadow,
for our country to give him a chance.
i cry for his words, for my loss,
to not have his presence in my classroom,
to have the nicest thing anyone’s
ever written to me
disappear with a graduation ceremony.
i cry for the world, for their loss,
for robbing refugees of their rights,
for keeping the beauty that is him,
that is within all of them,
from sharing their strength
with all of us, inshallah,
for a brighter tomorrow.
because we need this:
desertification looms
just beyond the bend
(Trump looms there as well,
where the ninety-degree March
made some record highs)
and so? a snow march
to keep precipitation
where it belongs: Earth
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