A Valentine

Dedicated to Blake Lavoie

Our sons & mothers

eat the same Fruit

we were fed when

we were young.

Match it up.

Turn it out.

There is that, no more -

now we have our way.

Down & around we’ve

made masks that

have brought us

to this place.

Here - or there -

or away -

or must.

We turn away from

promises made in

past lives & hobble

toward that new Future.

You left a little romance

still inside me.

For those sons & mothers.

For the Future.

For Peace.

For that Fruit.