I can’t put
my finger on what
I’m learning.
Just know I am.
There’s a way
to make the world
better.
Not like selfish
people who only
say they are working
to do better
while they sit
letting the world
suffer around them.
Seems as though
they want the paradise
without the reason,
the promise without the work,
the friendship without
returned kindness, one
culture revered above
another. It doesn’t always
work both ways. Seems as
though there is growing
yet to do, movement still
to make, yet again.
More at https://onpossibilitypoems.blogspot.com.
The mildness of this winter
Has surprised weather-beaten
People
The cold is yet to come they say
But those distant hills shiver at night
The dog stands absorbing the cold
We don’t
But with every season
We brew coldness in hearts
We store it in the many
Myths we propagate about human
Love.
Animal love we forget.
They sell what they
can, what is not
bolted down.
When troubles come,
they loot neighbors
and friends.
Eyes full of dollar signs.
I know it is cliché,
but what about the old
saying about giving
and receiving?
My my
and tsk tsk
for the task
selfishness
lives in me
growing in the lines
rooted deep
stretching far
beyond imagined
my my
and
mine mine.