I vision a place
safe without loss, the beginning of new,
the opening on all sides where anyone can relax
and sing.
It’s a shadow of a place, harbored beyond
envy and hate, turmoil and strife.
It’s the next train with an open boxcar. A bus
sounding loud on a dusty road. A car with the keys
left inside.
A thousand towns are out there. Laced up shoes
and a back pack begin with me.
A soft song slips the bounds of a nearby window.
I bet angels are laughing where hot coffee is served.
Roger Singer 