I believe in the kindness of community

Don’t believe the stories that say 
at the end of all things
with the sky falling
we’ll dive into ever worse warring. 

We are well equipped to live liminally, 
for every resting place along our way 
to become a celebration when we meet. 
We can be strangers without a word between us 
and still communicate deeply. 

We, the wandering species, 
are as gritty as they say, 
but our grit is for adapting.  

We form communities 
like birds build nests. 
Put us in a wilderness 
and we are all camaraderie. 

You’ll learn this on any holy way, 
from climbing out of any cold sea. 
Come in, strangers will say, 
sit by the fire pit, have a steak. 
Tell us, what have you seen? 

No matter the odds, 
we possess every impulse
necessary for peace.

Published by kdhumewriter

A queer writer and artist from the tidal flats of the Salish Sea. Author of Between Death and the Devil: Tarot Poems, So Our Idols are Dead: Empowerment Poems, and Persons of Consequence: A Pacific Northwest Gothic Novel.

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