Sadness today, but though sorrow squares with such a disconsolate day, sadness because it’s a sadness that settles in such a sinuous, incurious way. Sadness because it’s so hard to care yesterday, today and every inauspicious day.

Shut it off. Turn it off. Heave your sighs and close your eyes and then just walk away.

What to do, but duck and cover your ears, barricade your heart and bury all your fears?

What next? Just do it all again? Go to work? Go to school? Just breathe and say a prayer? Just clear the air of images, of salty tears and podiums, our unified despair.

Like a disconnected threadbare nerve those feelings just aren’t there the way they were when our innocence was pierced at mountain flower fair.

Sometimes it seems this Beacon of Hope wears a name it’s unworthy of.

For the shock of the slaughter of innocents is flying away like a silent mourning dove.

(Upon hearing the news of Parkland, Florida school shooting)

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