The gentle earth is hidden

The gentle earth is hidden
when neurons run around; the
junco and the goldfinch have
disputed Niger’s perch; no
hunger is abated when
instinct makes a push, and then
the Cheshire smile awaiting
brings paw to claw and so we
watch as dirt meets bone alas,
forever more. The cats who
owned me stayed inside my door;
the neighbor feeds the feral
and on it goes and goes and

friendly dog would romp across
this yard spread wide; any
squirrel who dared to cross his
line would let necrology
rip anew – no soothing can
be expected as legal minds
construe another meaning
to the constitution; oh
yes, we bow and pray, but does
it take a fence to keep the
monsters from entering our
conscience? We battle with no
one so much as resist a
plea from child’s mother – can

no heart be kept from breaking
where narrow river ambles?
How long will the nearsighted
ranger anchor us in plain
sight? The noose reminds Aunt Anne
the old is new again; sad
daughter shot by brother – he
didn’t mean to do this, no,
but nimble rules apply in
this nation of the wild west.
Does ancestry govern how
we behave? Naysayer rates
angst – not one of us is saved,
when dollars outbid Sandy Hook



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