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