What is a human life?
The years of moments
of feet touching earth
water on skin
words and thoughts flowing through
days like a syncopated stride.
Do I dream, tonight,
as the warm air moves
as moisture gathers off faraway coasts
like a galaxy over the ocean?
Do I dream tonight
as men raise flags of old
and a hollow face huddles beneath a bridge?
Do I dream
as the building crumbles
and a silent spring comes?
Today, two children with blond hair laughed in a pool.
Their bright blue eyes know not the scale of the heartbreak.
Their brilliant small bodies know not the score of the dance,
the crushing weight of an imaginary market.
And somewhere far away, deep in cold blue waters,
a Great Right Whale
can still hear a song leagues in the distance.