Winds

If I step outside

& sniff the winds

I hear the explosions

I hear the cries of the mothers

I hear the gunshots

I hear the anguish of the fathers.

Far or close,

the winds carry

the sorrows,

the insanity,

of us,

us on this turning orb.

I step inside

& pray.

◄ Good Enough

House to House ►

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