On such a morning, when the sun promises relaxing heat,
and a friend is coming over to stay, the room is ready,
the menu planned, and thoughts of conversation and wine
keeps me going through the last few tasks. When the garden
is nodding with flowers and greenery, and birds are busy,
when everything sparkles, and the beech leaves are silver
with light, coffee is brewing, breakfast celebrates waking up
on this new day.
It’s hard to remember the people who won’t see
another promising day, because lives have been stolen from them,
by bombs and fire, the uncaring world. When crowdfunding
comes too late for sprinkler systems and donations are locked away.
When they can no longer walk to shops to pick up milk, their clothes
moving in summer breeze, nor take exams, plan a future.
On a morning like this, it’s hard to believe in such things
but the news tells us different.