by Carmen Mason
” Man at his best, like water, serves as he goes along.”
Lao Tzu
Acting, poorly from above
I might not have looked down ~
Louima, Trayvon,
Malcolm, Thorpe
Nelson, Niwot, Biko,
Zora, Anne,Virginia, Joan
so many more
far from my life
of hap and good-intentions
I gurgle bubble over them
covered by shadowy gray islands
shallow meandering
flowing willy nilly :
clotted leaves seeds
pods husks twiggy branches
like ancient alphabets
moving on down
washing, rushing over ~
I might have ignored
their essentialness
they patient or embroiled
beneficent or haranguing
standing or falling
there in the water
waving or drowning ~
I might not have known
the difference or
ever cared enough to know
and then I dove
I have been writing poems all my life. They are sighs of joy, cries for help, testaments of love and loss, refuge and epiphany. They surprise, console and astound me. Just like friends and strangers do.