stone in a backpack of boulders
note to self
the backpack load
unbearable unwearable
too heavy
digs ruts in our shoulders
yet we must heft it
and now,
another stone
a huge one
a school we never heard of
filled with young children who
have lost buddies they played tag,
hung upside down on bars
and now are forever gone
they’ll face enduring night frights
stained with crimson—
how will they recover?
when will we ken
the fatal disease of
separation? without
the resonance of interbeing,
how linked we are,
every one of us, no exceptions,
this will happen again
and again and again
2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—they may never turn into anything more or they might flower.
the heart of the matter 
Yes. We are interconnected, share the same roots, are nuts to think otherwise – the evidence is all around us. We are being riven by ginned up hatred, and children keep getting killed by teenagers with military- grade weapons while gun sales skyrocket. Is this who we are now??
This is a marvelous poem. I wish you didn’t have to write it, but I’m glad you did.❤️
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Another one coming tonight….
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You should submit this to the newspaper or magazine or somewhere.
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Thank you, Leah!
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