the fiber optic cables are swollen with grief
blood clots the airwaves
faces beyond despair stare from half a world away
newsprint is smudged with the tears it’s reporting
the world’s absurdity
nature’s cruelty
man’s depravity
all in high-resolution overdoses of reality
there are too many claims on my sympathy
too much need for the morphine of apathy
to preserve my faith in humanity
I have to ration my pity
stop my ears
turn away from the carnage
lest my heart grow cold faster than the bodies
so I exchange the funereal for the farcical
take sabbaticals from the news
and seek refuge in the world of Pixar
Categories:
sabbaticals, faith, humanity, sad, senses,
Form: Free verse
Three truant scholars spending our sabbaticals
in crisp Colorado, we all re-read Walden,
dared to drink from streams so icy clear
the fish seemed suspended in mid-air.
Our flimsy nylon shelters shielded us
from what weather there was to worry on,
as summer slipped to autumn
and autumn waned winterward.
Four full years past we trekked those trails
through stands of timber frequented by fox,
by birds, by deer -- and by growling grizzlies.
We walked well-wooded hillsides
of mixed conifers and broadleaf.
In deep drafts we breathed the earthy air.
Now, when my son hugs his honey bear,
red-jacketed, black-button eyed,
I see the hellish maw, the bloodied claw,
of the darkish-brown raging beast
that tore off my arm and maimed
two sages, amid the yellow quaking aspen
where, yet, that gory grizzly ages.
Categories:
sabbaticals, introspection, loss, nature, sad,
Form: Narrative