It’s being a star

wrapped under daylight,

or being a taro leaf

letting go all water droplets

of worldliness gracefully,

or maybe it’s a voice

against the tyrant who,

“…when cried the little children died in the street*”

*Epitaph on a Tyrant by W.H. Auden




Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Human @ Poets United