Ropes on poles, jeans & shirts flapping in wind.
He sits on a giant bag of rice, head in hands.
Too much or too little, rips & bursts & furrows.
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File it under Humanity. The words here hurt my heart and convict my soul. Today I have found a new [to me] and very soul-challenging writer. Today was a very good day for me.
How quickly urgencies of doing disappear. And where is the child from the next apartment, whose crying kept him awake these last terrible months? this unknowing? ? very fine poem. tony