Homecoming

Disappointment greets you

with a firmer handshake every year—

is getting harder to disguise

when even hope gets tired

of holding smiles 

cheering eyes

But I have a stubborn, wild

kind of hope, that

sees the sun crown light

upon your head and hears

birds sing a sweet tune

for your homecoming—

every flower blooms.

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May Day Heatwave

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So, I Was Born