"Umbrella," a concrete poem by Larry Day

Song for the Times
By Kitty Riley

When you hear the news 
How more people have died 
And you think there are clues 
To what could have been tried 
To stop the hand of anger 
Cool the fire of hate 
That puts us all in danger 
And can’t separate 
Politics from humanity. 
And all the world seems to 
Shriek with its profanity. 
And, what can one person do? 

And the wind sighs, 
Am I broken? 
Can I carry this load? 
Are words unspoken 
That could ease this road? 
Cry out the voices 
No one seems to hear. 
Who makes the choices? 
Does anyone care? 

All over the world are 
People crossing borders 
From places afar 
To escape the disorder 
Of violence and terror 
For a better life without 
Oppressors or hunger 
And yet people shout 
How dare you come here. 
You don’t belong, you 
Must return there. 
And, what can one person do? 

And the earth cries,
Am I broken? 
Can I carry this load? 
Are words unspoken 
That could ease this road? 
Cry out the voices 
No one seems to hear 
Who makes the choices? 
Does anyone care? 

Waves of sorrow 
Crash against the cliffs.
Cascades of torment 
Fall into the abyss. 
Souls ashamed and 
Souls afraid to be 
That cannot stand 
Alone yet cannot plea 
For help from others 
While they go through 
Nightmares under cover. 
And, what can one person do? 

And the waters rise, 
Am I broken? 
Can I carry this load?
Are words unspoken 
That could ease this road? 
Cry out the voices 
No one seems to hear 
Who makes the choices? 
Does anyone care? 

Smile at a stranger
Keep an open heart 
Become a changer 
And do your part 
Speak out against hate 
Stand up for what’s right
And try to create
A world that just might
Be that better place. 
And vote for those who 
Kindness embrace. 
That is what one person can do. 

Let the light shine. 

Am I broken? 
Can I carry this load? 
Are words unspoken 
That could ease this road? 
Cry out the voices 
No one seems to hear 
Who makes the choices?
Does anyone care? 
Does anyone care?


“Looks like Spring is coming early.”

 
Spring Haipu
by Deborah Holt Williams
 
Such a little dog
But a warm spring day reveals
A great poo-nami