IN THE CLEAR EVENING OF A LATE JULY DAY

The hours have gone

down the hot gravel roads

of the late summer day,

and I have sat here,

before the computer

and a closed window,

tweeting about people

hanged by the military junta

in Burma,

of ethnic cleansing blessed

with holy mantra of 'Shared Values'

in Masafer Yatta,

and of a demoracy, won

with fire, being stolen

via a farce in Tunisia.

Front of the window

which closes out the summer

I can act, not think;

those long gravel roads

amidst fields and woods

would force me to think,

and thinking is something

I can't bear on this late

stretch of my life.

25.07.2022

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