Looking Glass, March 11, 2022
somewhere between light and a dream
I arise
to a time
neither dead nor alive
between winter and spring
a fresh fall of snow after
a warm day
but now the sun deceives
as a bare branch waves
in a breeze
and somewhere between the lines
stirs a line of reflection
about another place
where somewhere in the heart
of a people stirs
the echoes of war
a place
where poets hide
when lives are changed
with bullets and bombs
and refugees leave behind
fragment of their lives
and cross boarders
a worn refrain
I look out the window
for reflections of spring
the promise of life renewed
and I ask myself
who we really are
Copyright © Mike Bayles | Year Posted 2022
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