Poetry of Love, Resistance, & Solidarity

At midnight under the full buck moon of July
people come running, little and big, slow and fast
We invited them to the moon;
they appear as if it’s only visible in this place at the stroke of light
they arrive loud but run quiet among the breathing hills
herds and schools of them
adding musical notes to the air subtly everywhere
like a cleansing breath
like fish
returning to the depth
–K.L. Barron


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