Hands that once felt too small to lift burdens

are now clenched into fists

From the sky I saw endless gray rivers,

older than the cliché of arteries

We think it was a lit cigarette

flicked off the wrist of a driver, racing past

You think this poem will preserve the breeze,

preserve the dark and oaky trees

Hope means understanding that, while there will be obstacles, we can still make change.

Green are the strands of the winner's laurel;

green is the step of his podium as he stares over the crowd

They say 7 billion people stayed home today

2.2 billion children stayed out of school

125 miles.

I never imagined they could be so close. 

Suburban living is a great, untested experiment. While this style of living . . .