Monday in November

“The world
seems heavy,”
we say,
our eyes two unresolved
question marks,
a layer of replays
from the nightly news.
In reply I have
no aphorisms
no scapegoats,
no answers.

All I can say is-
Yesterday on the bus
A woman sat
wearing a pink scarf
embroidered with both
halves of a butterfly,
befriending a weary
mother and son.



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