Poetry of Love, Resistance, & Solidarity

That deep far off kind of blue
sky reflected in the eyes of the child I once was,
sitting barefoot and cross-legged in a field
somewhere south of town,
searching for a new kind of infinite.
Even now there are days I feel a stranger here
underneath and in between overbearing spaces
that invade the mind and dull the senses,
but if I were to ever leave,
my heart would always call it home.

— William Ottens


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