Except for my Sons

School is closed again today

Half way there, I slow peddle to a dock, lean my bike against the railing

The color of lake is the same as sky And the rail is gray with shadows. The grayscape penetrated only by a rising carp about to die

The Court of the Oceans had made it clear that we might sue for their warming

All picnics are cancelled through town. Children will stay on screens in bedrooms while fans churn the air

After the storm, trees and choirs and fun runs and electricity are down.

Down it all

Except for my sons, I would dive into the deepest sky. Hop the rails to some cobalt forest. Close the system down

I would swim to the wide dark center, close to where it all began

Except for my sons, blooming extraforcial beings. And this duck and I, floating on a curtain of dock, sharing this gray and open expanse, free as birds


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