(enjoy)
joy
knowing that you know
and I know
who is hurting now
and you curl
your finger around
my thumb.
and in this,
I know you will
stand in the streets
and protect the cities
I somehow grew fond of;

Maybe you will play your old guitar,
and sing of ways we could
learn how to be
human again.

The first song is just for practice,
and your voice cracks a little,
you smile shyly
at the boys holding machetes
and the girls with baskets and babies.

You hum a bit at first,
and the men with guns and chains,
sway in uncertainty.

Then you throw back your head and
cry unabashedly
of the way we have given up pieces of us
and along the way lost more than we had.

My cities stand still; at least agreeing to listen.

Perhaps this is as close to joy as we could be,
today.

Thank you, I whisper; these are mine.