Read Poetry

By Donna

Look through each
kitchen window,
to see thick stews
in pressure pots,
atop high blue flames
surpassing their boiling point,
the stagnant ingredients inside
requiring a stir
thirsts for water.

We are feeding 
on dark energy,
normalizing its presence 
in our body.
Secure your seat at the table;
for blessings will follow grace,
as raised heads meet open eyes
to break bread and
attempt to remedy the trauma
now ours to fix.
There is something—
something greater
we must
knuckle up
and brace for the fight.

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