As
we age, we are relegated to adjust to the darkness.
It
comes as no surprise then when we are exiled to dwell
under
the cellar’s dim light clinging to our memories.
I
once knew a man claiming to be St. Sebastian incarnate
who
had been shot with a thousand arrows of fear and
hatred
in a previous life.
The
President pardons a bigoted sheriff, and mountains of
contaminated
soil are shoveled onto the graves of Martin
Luther
King Jr. and Nelson Mandela.
Why
is it we are so forgetful of our struggles at birth and
live
the rest of our lives fearful of dying? Every breath
taken
is reprieve from the damp dungeon of last night.
Chris
Hanch 8-27-17
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