Soft Edges

Upon wakening I avoid THE NEWS

On my way with three dogs

To the backyard

Where they pee

And I inhale fresh air

While saying that silent prayer

Where I am truthfully thankful

For each moment given me.

The day could end here

But for the shelling in Ukraine,

The nonstop blah-blah of politics,

The rise of the stupid-minded,

Senseless crime, unbridled rage,

Humans living in bushes by freeways

While glaciers slide into oceans

As missles fly over gentle people

And gunmen kill children

And I’m in the backyard,

Three dogs at my feet, hoping

I’ll go back inside

And give them treats

Like I do every morning,

A habit with soft edges

In a world falling apart.

One response to “Soft Edges”

  1. We have to treasure any small shred of sanity we can find during the day.


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