Poems from PoetHorse
Passing on the banks of the river,
bluffs on each side rise to reach a low sky.
Covered only in scraggly bushes, rock
bare and brown slopes...
Our nation has simmered
So long untouched
Setting ourselves
apart are we.
Who, or what, will ignite
the flame beneath the melting pot?
Who...
The little things I cherish -
The popsicle stick people that were my Christmas present,
The notes we slip under the other's door,
The dolls...
I hear the barn in winter singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of horses, their huffing breath as they dance through the snow
crystal...
Guns may fire
Bombs may drop
But we stand with you
Côté à côté.
Blood has been spilled
Your people have been killed
But we stand with you...