Adventuring into the landscape after 2 a.m.

The rain has stopped
but the magic has not ended.
Water still falls from building gutters
mixed with the drips
from branches and leaves.

And there on the ground
a handful of yellow petals,
fallen from rain or careless hand
of a passing club-goer.
I stop to pick them up.

The first is silky wet,
then placing each one at a time,
carefully into my open palm,
I realize that treasure is not what I hold
but finding myself where I am.

Setting them back under the bush,
looking down the row as I walk on by,
wishing to see a fey friend tell me ‘hi,’
and one branch out of all the others
slowly sways as if waving ‘good-bye!’

Marmara ship massacre

To my only Islamic friend:
I'm sorry my hatred for 'them'
Has allowed me this tragedy.
The Mediterranean now bleeds.

We have tried to damn 'their' fate.
Now what has taken place?
Armed with food for our enemy
We had to battle you on the high seas.

Is it fear for our survival
That has led us into denial?
But how to take it back?
And how to show regret?

Sometimes

Sometimes others hurt you and you just have to accept it
Sometimes they used to be friends and you can only regret it
Sometimes the only way to forgive is to move on
Sometimes you cry when even in your heart you know you've done them no wrong

Accept it, regret it, move on, do them no wrong.