of hope, and happenstance


the world’s got a way of turn
-turn-turning, churning your
gut and handing you nothing
but a plate of fear. it doesn’t

take an expert to know we’re
all here to say our piece, to
piece together some semblance
of song, to sing our own peace.

perhaps if we stay wet behind
the ears, we’ll finally hear, grab
hands between the ropey strains,
shed our names and sing along.


Day 5 of the April PAD Challenge. 

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