This Morning

Mist rises from the ponds and creeks
floating over fresh cut fields
and drifting up through branches
into October sky
The creamy pale moon
falls into the western sky
amid pink wisps of cloud
Across the horizon
the sun begins his ride
all fabulous and flamboyant
in gold and orange and red

Then why, on this lovely morning
do I mourn
Why do my tears at all this beauty
turn to tears of grief and sadness

In this small slice of ordinary time
boxes containing bombs arrive on
the doorsteps of unsuspecting targets
Mothers gather up their children
and leaving all familiar
head for hope and brighter future
Not believing that their arrival is feared
that they in fact are terrorists
That lies are truth
and truth is fake

This morning
I am mourning

10/25/18