if fall should come and you find your
apple trees have been replaced by brick,
the sounds of the rivers
turned to the hum of distant traffic
remember that a cup of tea
is just as cozy at the corner cafe
as it is in an orchard
and that warm wool socks can be stitched
around your heart the same in the city
as they were in your garden.
you may have a harvest yet.
photo: Rachel Wood
I have swallowed enough of this city’s concrete and I am now filled with it
I am convinced the crushing feeling I wake up with is simply
the overflow of it in my chest and that somewhere beneath it in my heart is a seed
and that somehow the springtime will push something blossoming through
because Continue reading Concrete
This is where I live now
This is where I’ve lived the last 15 years
Carrying my oppressor by my side
Every night we share the same pillow
We walk hand in hand through the day
In the mornings I pray you won’t be there
But you never leave.
You can’t leave, while I stay.
(Photo by veeterzy on Unsplash)
magnificent in all
that makes you, you
you with the nights,
your skies filled with stars
or utter blankness
Continue reading For the Love of a City
they weren’t neighbors.
they couldn’t be.
they wouldn’t let them be
because they were just
Continue reading They Ain’t Our Neighbors