The day demands
so much
from us
that we must make
our own demands
of the day
lines, that can’t get longer
schedules, running shorter
time, that doesn’t forgive
Orders,
and we wonder…
What’s wrong with giving them?
We need new ways
literature can lead the way
and not every story
is meant to be read.
Sacred places
make no demands
like a lake that loves to be looked at
by one man
or the corners of the world
where nobody goes
I demand
a library book
not checked-out
since 1972.
There’s fuel
we find
when we’ve been empty for years
it’s art and passion and words that work
filling our deepest dread
with fire
that warms us
in the coldest regions
of a ridiculous world.
This is lovely.
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