Yes I remember
that night
in midwinter,
the one
that we burned
on the hill,
and the moon
and the stars
and the
somersault sparks
and wanting
it all
to stay still,
and yes I remember
the warmth
of the embers
and daring
the future
with hope
at the
very same time
your fingers
touched mine
as softly as if
they were smoke.

it isn't all black and white
the choke-hold of history

shades of red and brown
paint the scenery, too

the documented imagery
forgotten in the fray

a little big horn playing mournful
songs as the cavalry marches on
to the tune of galleons and guns


no passport required
when the port was young

émigré and immigrant
displacing native sons

who also once were pilgrims
breathing in the sun.

A child holds out a hand.
He has no tears to cry.
His stomach is a gastric band.
His future is to die.

He doesn't have food to eat.
He has nothing to drink.
To him this life is far from sweet.
His future is to sink.

Whilst all around that other place.
People cause disarray.
By getting started in the race.
That we call black Friday!

Whilst many have to pray for life.
That we treat as the norm.
We're fighting for the cheapest price.
And doing it in swarms.

How can the peoples of these places?
Hold their heads up high.
Does greed reflect from our faces?
Whilst so many other die!

We seems so motivated.
Over a child's toy.
It's ok to get aggrevated.
Over the things we buy.

It would be another story.
If it was a fight for life.
But it doesn't show much glory.
When it's a new coat for the wife.

We have a poor economy.
So can anyone be blamed!
We are all healthy, fed and free.
And we should all feel ashamed.

Do you remember
that midwinter night
the one with ice
in the air
the one that
we burned
until it
turned white
that nobody
else could
stand near
do you remember
the dance of
the slender
flames as they
tortured the cold
when they
were done
you glowed
like the sun's
tongue had been
licking
your soul.