You can feel
the passing of a life
even before you get
to the spot
where the motorcycle
lies crushed.

The newspaper
scorches my fingers
before I pull it out
of the plastic wrapper
the carrier put it in.
It rained today.

Police shootings.
Spilled oil exploding.
Maniacs seeking to
create horror, fear
mangle a human life.
This avalanche of
heavy news
weighs on my chest.

I want to turn away;
shield my tender spirit.
Protect my heart
from these aching wounds.

I want to
turn toward light & joy.
(I have only so much
time on this earth.)
But I am afraid
that if we all turn away
who will care?