Sunday, June 14, 2015



When a longtime bully steps away,
dank vile slab that’s been leaning hard—
you come to yourself in a sliver of air,                 
and blink, and breathe, and quietly say:
Those bricks, just bricks. Those faces, faces.
Not a toppling wall, not a jeering mob.
You tingle to brink in a skin of allow,
mineral light in your thankful chest.                  
Peace returned is the joy that throbs.
World’s your home as it always was.

No comments:

Post a Comment

2009, a blog by Mike Barnes, welcomes comments on current and past posts. Type your comment here.