News bursts from the media like
a ****** of crows smelling blood :
war, homelessness, racial tension,
we drown in a hurricane of bad news –
a thick growth of ugly impressions
like warts on the bark of an old tree.

Whoever invented this code
of exsitence, please don’t block
the light forever or let us become
estranged from tenderness,
made victims of virtual violence.

Give us back the season
we long for,caressed by
strokes of sunlight,
the precise and unexpected
beauty of a flower growing
among stones. From time
to time, give us a rainbow.