Birds chirping in the trees, people on porches talking. All celebrating the last few minutes of daylight. The night is beautiful. I have lost track of the line in this dim light. She, no they. We are trapped behind the camera. She stood up with tears in her eyes and mustered “Isn’t it beautiful that we can be in a place where we can embrace and say ‘I love you’? Aren’t we blessed by the best?” A fragile collision of priorities. It’s time to decide what desires to satisfy.

Note: I didn’t write this, me and all my friends wrote it collaboratively.


Left on the blacktop broken.
Dumped in the backyard open.
Sitting on the front porch swing singing to the whole street
See the last store closing.

The rain is alive
the corn is alive
the worms in the ground are alive.

The wind is alive
the night is alive
the men in the ground are dead.

I can hear the songs
of at least a hundred birds.
Where are they hiding?

Christ, the prince of peace!
Your servant lacks nothing.
Christ, the bread of life!

Autumn rain, still warm.
My heart races with the sound.
The litter strewn streets.

Suddenly I remember-
you have vanished.
Cut down by sorrow.

Bright climbing flowers.
The fence sags under their weight.
A neighbor calls out to me.

Cats sleep here,
flowers grow here,
women walk here.
It is not abandoned.

A moment alone,
though I must breathe lead dust,
satisfies my longing.

I don’t know this man.
Let me eat roast pork with him
until we are full!