The News

Each morning we listen for what is breaking—

the sound of a thousand tragedies fills the air,
shattering that never stops,
headlines, a fleet of anchors tangled at our feet.

We watch, worried
if we turn away even for an instant,
it will all crumble the rest of the way.

Forget with me for a moment.
Take an unguarded breath.
Do it now, the world needs your attention here, too,
on the rise and fall of your shoulders,
the rustle of leaves outside the window,
the warm space between your gaze and mine.

Previously published in Gwarlingo Sunday Poem, One Earth Sangha, and What We Were Born For.