a few dawns, a few sunsets
some horrors that won’t be mentioned
the trees that were uprooted
the plans that went awry
some magic that got spilled
(let us count the ways)
we have our good selves
in better common than our bad
remember that
what’s not to have in common
the blank sheet and the silence
the bad poem and the scream
(I found a good poem at dawn)
tonight in the penumbra
the earth casts a faint shadow upon the moon
what’s not to cast
flowers at swine
chokoes at children
or outright hatred
(the poor moon)
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