Solace of Trees (Day 275)

We long to open 

doors, and breathe 

a freshening breeze, 

to leave 

our gates unlocked, 

accept the solace

of trees whose 

constellation of greens 

shimmer overhead, 

to step into the middle, 

soft as sleep, 

and forage among 

the refuse of our day, 

to sigh, to laugh, 

to weep outright 

for what we had 

to leave along the road, 

with so little time to choose, 

voices raised in protest: 

Let us stay! And yet, 

both sides refuse, 

both sides refuse

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: Toward Los Angeles, CA 1937, by Dorothea Lange 

via US Library of Congress