The flute, piccolo, and bassoon
My earlier instruments
Now I listen to crows’ caws
Warning us about the
Hawks in the trees nearby
My mother’s fried chicken
Popping and spewing
Cooking just right
Tasty grease and salt
Going down easy
Touching my tiny dog’s
Soft fur, smelling the salt
From our beach walk
Hiding from the burrs
Violence erupting
Guns aflame
Tragic streets in our nation
Worse tragedy in Ukraine
Here, police shooting at
Black and brown men and children
I hear Martin Luther King’s voice
I feel his
Presence in my bones
Soul speaking wisdom
Courage and Beloved Community
Anger feels like fire
Rippling down my spine
Love feels cuddly, juicy, sweet
Peace seems billowy and heavenly
The Spirit oozes with joy and delight
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