Audacity is a Kind of Hope

The days are getting hotter and the rains 
are falling harder somewhere else. In the yard,

the grass still grows rampant, not knowing 
anything about crowds crushed to death 

in a stampede, or newborns suffocating in blow-
torch heat. What can one do now, given it's 

impossible to look too far ahead into a future? 
And yet we plan on making a trip to celebrate 

a wedding, to visit the park with a giant silver bean 
and water fountains. We make plans for dinner 

and a show, a visit to the museum to look up 
at a fossil's 67-million-year old bones. Whatever 

you call it, that spirit rolls up its brightest clothes into
the luggage, leaving a bit of room for the unknown.