Do you see the way the perfect dusting of snow on the towering pine trees matches yet contrasts the dimming greenish-brown of their trunks and needles? Do you see the beautiful pale blue of the sky, the way it holds just the barest hint of pink, a reminder of sunset to come? Well, I do. And it's so perfect my heart aches.
looking up at the sky,
i can understand
why ancient people thought
the earth was flat
and the sky was a dome
our own personal snow globe
only,
we're trapped in it.
now we know
When the rivers turn to blood,
we will know
that our violence,
our unending savagery, our cruelty,
things we pass off as normal,
has gone too far.
When the rivers turn to blood,
we will know.
little lions
poking up through the sidewalk cracks
little lions
rambling along the sides of hills
little lions
puffy yellow stars shining like the sun
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