Fighting Present

The past wants a piece of flesh,

always waiting wondering when

to jump on a moment with fresh

ideas, exploiting our lives again.

~

Seems where we go always here

back to a familiar surrounding

when and if we understand fear

began in our heart this morning.

~

I walked while outside the weep

covered the sidewalks, a soft

repeat of a sound that would deep

remind us all of barbs we loft.

~

For it is a kinder world less naive

leaves our heart with soul to weave.


© Thom Amundsen 8/2021

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