By Will Schmit
I roll through an intersection of peacocks on
my lunch break. The driver window, down
with the thaw, lets African Pop music drift
out to the gathered march of geese and cranes.
Sound bites spit the news of cities burning,
refugees, pandemic cycles, baseball to begin
again, the proof of a spring offensive is a road
side bloom or a shiny dime face up on the road.
Calla lilies outdo my meditation, waiting on rain
they shine, reigning in sun they blare hope from
the mud of last year’s fires, wave green banners
at a blue sky with burnt yellow dreams of silent
sirens. I read a war poem in translation. A school
desk is the only roof left in a blown-out classroom.
The peacocks lift from the street to branches as
one, the geese and cranes charge the clouds.
Will Schmit is a working class folk poet from Northern California. Will’s most recent recording Fix My Car: A Spoken Word Mythology is available for streaming at Spotify and on iTunes.