Everything grapples
with the decision to go
on. My work not done.
Blue skies stretch
before me, slight
breeze shakes trees.
My first Georgia
spring learning
what dogwood is.
I said it’s easy to write
a poem about something
other than yourself
but still I turn to this.
Yes, it’s 2012 & nothing
has really changed
since last year.
I don’t want to make
pronouncements
about American history.
I only want to love
my neighbor & do
no harm.