Beyond the Horizon

‘. . . . at the end of the rainbow life has only begun’


I am thinking of your children.

I am thinking of Provincetown and swordfish

from the IGA; hearing Terry Jane laugh and Jeff

and all that good talk. I am seeing your face

when you talked about your toddlers. How

my arms feel the baby boy, his father our teacher.

I am thinking how does he live without his boy.  I am

thinking of hate, how easy it can be.  I am thinking

of kneeling before candles, for my mother’s answer to violence

was prayer, her comprehension unrevealed, except in the set of her mouth.

Now the mother, my son in his changeling years, I asked

her and she said: “There was enough hurt in the world

and your father and I didn’t want to add to it.”

And I am thinking I don’t hate. Today I don’t know

how to hate: a gun, a person, a dogma, a word.

I am thinking of your children. 

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