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 Dec 2021 Seranaea Jones
Khoisan
It is in the darkest time
of the world
that we seek
to find the light,
they are in the shadow
of our gifts
spoken or given,
say hello
share a smile
or give a hug,
we need to embrace
strange wisdom
simple expressions
of a word
called Lđź’–VE.
they drink flat beer at the racetrack
while standing in the rain
waiting for 30 to1 shots
to come in.

they meet at airport terminals
waiting for different flights
with stubborn hope
promising to meet again
next summer.

sanity like smuggled light
they leave the mad houses sane
and carry bibles in the ghetto
and run for president
to change things
for the better
for a change.

they are poor black children
in a toy store
on a white
very white
Christmas eve.

hungry wind, restless wanderers,

the wind blows them away.
“Poetry to me is emotion strung on Christmas trees,
it's that delight that rips through paper
and bows to find the treasure hidden inside.

I love the thoughtful topics you bring to us
to delve into and ponder. As holidays near
I wish you warmth and caring and

childhood delight…

hugs,
Patty
”
a note to me from Patty…published without her permission, sorry kiddo!
The sea roars in rhythmic hymns
  God's power ends and then begins.
  We walk hand in hand in a full moon
  along the shore it's over too soon.
  Curling waves are death's beckoning.
  Black water is our final reckoning.
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