Ramadan Kareem, beloveds!
I think it’s fitting to start with the poem whose ending I “borrowed” in my last posted poem. This one shatters every time.
Meditations in an Emergency
Cameron Awkward-Rich
I wake up & it breaks my heart. I draw the blinds & the thrill of rain breaks my heart. I go outside. I ride the train, walk among the buildings, men in Monday suits. The flight of doves, the city of tents beneath the underpass, the huddled mass, old women hawking roses, & children all of them, break my heart. There’s a dream I have in which I love the world. I run from end to end like fingers through her hair. There are no borders, only wind. Like you, I was born. Like you, I was raised in the institution of dreaming. Hand on my heart. Hand on my stupid heart.
I want to say how I love this, and also loved your poem in February, born of this poem, somehow lost the thread…🙏💜