June 21, 2025
The first day of summer.
The first day of war with Iran.
My cat sits on the coffee table, waiting.
Children crouch in mudflats, hungry.
A friend calls who hasn’t heard.
A murderer gloats.
The library hosts a nature poetry workshop.
Newscasters interview retired generals.
Peace is that place between drafts.
Peace is an ultimatum: or else.
Sparrows trill in the treetops.
Bombs shatter the tight coil of history.
The sun spoons into dark soil.
The sun, eclipsed behind a terrified cloud.
I grieve for what is to come.
Some there are, incapable of grief.
I want to gather those I love.
Some would rather tower than hold.
My mother remembers butter rationing.
The tariff wheel spins, a table of random numbers.
I count the days ahead, stop.
All the traffic lights, stuck on red.
My cat moves to a chair, circles, plops down.
The President approaches the mic, gunning for God.
The first day of war with Iran.
My cat sits on the coffee table, waiting.
Children crouch in mudflats, hungry.
A friend calls who hasn’t heard.
A murderer gloats.
The library hosts a nature poetry workshop.
Newscasters interview retired generals.
Peace is that place between drafts.
Peace is an ultimatum: or else.
Sparrows trill in the treetops.
Bombs shatter the tight coil of history.
The sun spoons into dark soil.
The sun, eclipsed behind a terrified cloud.
I grieve for what is to come.
Some there are, incapable of grief.
I want to gather those I love.
Some would rather tower than hold.
My mother remembers butter rationing.
The tariff wheel spins, a table of random numbers.
I count the days ahead, stop.
All the traffic lights, stuck on red.
My cat moves to a chair, circles, plops down.
The President approaches the mic, gunning for God.