Christmas time is here, friends cannot draw near. We wear our masks, complete tasks, attempt our songs of cheer.
Having seen the monuments dedicated to those who sacrificed their lives, I wonder what it would be like, to see a monument to the dead of this virus. A monument to the survivors, many of whom still suffer.
When December calls...
love should be easy...
These ruins sit unused, generations pass them by.
The cold permeateschilling my bones to their depth.It has been so long since I’ve felt warmth,or the feeling of my limbs.They are phantoms now,leftovers of another life,when I felt control and pain.I stumble along,unable to feel the bruisesI’ve accumulated along the way.I bump against a door,not realizing I’ve crashed it wide,blown it open so the … Continue reading enter
Leaves fall. Each one starts, a gentle cascade to the earth, carried by the breeze.
I lose myself in the music if only for a moment.
It is a swirling storm that reigns my thoughts.
I would normally bake two dozen butter tarts, because you loved them.
They say: Don’t judge your beginning or middle, against someone’s end.
I don’t see you any more, your lights dimmed amidst the glow of others.
Giving of my heart...
We must act on injustice, for those who need it.
Is empathy enough without action?