a place to breathe beyond gunfire
a summer meadow, maybe,
swaying with cicada song
a long rain to drench this thirsty soil
we can get through if we’re not alone
contributing shoulder to shoulder
with neighbor our kindness,
without comment, with our hands
whatever we build here won’t last forever
but might stand long enough
to cast a shadow over hate
a place to gather
love shack, cathedral, concert hall
whatever it is will be enough
maybe an ark to carry the promise of our children
across this river of blood
.
Alfred Fournier
.