This morning’s haiku: this age of rage

in this time of rage

invective traded like cash

poetry’s my peace


Checked Twitter this morning. So much rage. I’m not sure there’s not anyone without veins bulging nor invective dripping from their lips, a poison so sweet, so deadly. 

I’m glad I have this little garden on the internet, where I can delight in life and growth, not what’s been burned beyond recognition.

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