a crisp morning
listening to the radio
describe Bobby Kennedy’s iron lung
By the end of the day
I was listening to music again.
Yesterday, and probably later on today lives
will be lost at the hands of war
all of which are names we don’t know.
Yet, in the blogs and commentaries
the incessant threads that expose our world,
in news reports and cocktail hour chats
the name ISIS will become familiar,
Kurdish, Gaza, Ukraine, Israeli, Shiite,
Crips, Bloods, Disciples, Latin Kings,
Jihad, Taliban …
White, Black, Hispanic, Russian, Somali, Asian,
Some names we know,
they live nearby,
walk the same streets as you and I
on any given night,
we read about their activities,
still far across the city,
distant identities across the world,
seemingly wanting the same
still not walking in stride,
We are a talented animal,
with our flaws and successes,
we conveniently forget
matters of hurt.
Wherever our world exists
we must always respond
to the reality around us.
In my own backyard,
I worry about flowers and trees,
while in a nearby war zone,
families cry for each other’s lives.
We must never forget