Untitled, 11-18-15

Sunglasses

turning autumn

to technicolor

don’t provide shade

against atrocity

Staring directly

at the sun

only burns

the memory of violence

on my retinas

No amount

of hippie peace music

drowns out

the wails of war

Fleece can’t warm

this November

My children

are listening

There’s no avoiding

this

#18 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans.