From DZM

We Are America

We are not Americabecause we close off hopeWe are America because we let it in We are not Americabecause we fear the truthWe are America because we cling to it We are not Americabecause we foment the worstWe are America because we inspire the best We are not Americabecause we are about one manWe are…

Knowing

People eventually know — as I know — this flaxen gift of life will slip. The spindly legs of a sick child or the bony, veined hands of old women remind us of breaking. But also that living moves when Gaia speaks. On a Sunday morning, fresh blooms go on an old grave where new tears fall. But the grief dwindles hours later against the slope of a partner’s body. Fingers arched, someone peels a layer off. And the citrus hangs like summer air. But it is not the fruit, or the granite tombstone, or the baby’s footprint, that prove…