We are all our joys, struggles, and life’s occasional painful pinches. Nothing needs to be erased, how wonderful to care for all these like a mother with unconditional love until you realize all of these are  not actually you. :)

the mockingbirds descend in front of my window to mirror the sun's swopping motion towards the horizon

I diligently thank their chirps as their gracious chatter is almost fairy given into this world

here, on this day a young man  passes  by my window whistling a song . unbelievable-- I wonder if the birds inspired him, too

all of today busy making all i need
all I must do is lift my chin and gaze
at the world around me

I will not leave you, not here as the sun burns high over the valley in the heart of our home state

I will not leave again, the shops and restaurant in our coastal basin, the land my grandfather plowed with his hands

while some plant cruelty and others respond in a dance
of flee to escape the tumultuous landfall

of an authoritarian storm: I will retain my stride and my hope: my heart 
has long ago been buried here, deep in Los Ángeles

at the point where the rich dark soil ends and the sand begins 
Here, the sun will do as it must, and I will hold my ground

The word for cruelty is cruelty. C r u e l that slouches without empathy planning how to injure another. Cruelty is not a lack of experience; It’s not a mistake; cruelty is a decision someone makes to beat another, to drag another, to **** those most vulnerable, to take what is not theirs. Cruelty is cruelty, and it needs no defending; it needs no praise. For the strongest arm-wielding cruelty is the weakest of heart and weakest of character. Truly, this world belongs to those whose arms may be small but whose hearts hold unwavering courage.

On a Saturday afternoon, the stray cats came to Alice’s front driveway to join us, as they smelled that something nourishing was being served. My neighbors, young and old, left-leaning and right-leaning in their political inclinations, included brothers, sets of wives and husbands, divorcees, singles, and a mix of taco and rigatoni enthusiasts. On the grill, meat patties for burgers and hot dogs, all destined for different-shaped buns. Practicing my Portuguese and discussing learning Arabic with a neighbor. Scheduling morning coffee with others and discovering how joyous it is to say hello and break bread together.

You filled one of my ten cups to the brim. Thank you!  

I am no longer greedy in my youth for you. If ever a cup is knocked over and spilled, I know I have a lifetime to fill it up again.

Thank you!

My cups are brimming, and I am collecting everything you and others gave me

Thank you!

If I am ever in town, I’ll be sure to stop by and thank you

There are slivers of past so grey that they collect to reveal a full moon. These terrible things that twist at times my tongue, teem far away now but crater always into today, toiling the tempestuous dark into tremendous joy. Teething away tine, for it’s in order now. This smile hung alongside my crater-beat moon of a past; it appears pretty—