Various and Sundry Poetry


after the wake of breaking headlines,
with a city plunged into darkness and heat,
and so many mouths cracking open
in a fierce wail of need -

no wonder i find myself straddled between
the urge to move mountains
and the other urge,
the more complicated one,
to remain as still and silent as i can,
tending my own little garden.

either way, i am left standing
as if on tiptoe,
clutching at my good fortune
of having such a choice.