Witness

We marched for domestic
violence awareness,
down Route 66.
Traffic momentarily suspended,
posters and banners proclaimed:
“End the silence
about domestic violence.”
People from all walks of life joined.
What drew us together
was our common humanity
and our shared loss.
Some drivers waved
or rolled down a window
to shout a greeting.

To our right, between
the shoulder of the road
and the train tracks,
prairie dog territory reigned.
Along this neck of wildland
we encountered open patches
maintained by local businesses.

Across from Nu Kreation Tattoos,
a city-sponsored garden
stood barren, but all around
its perimeter, flowers bloomed.
Sometimes a seed,
once planted,
bears unforeseen fruit.

Let the seed fall
where it will.
Let the seed drink
the monsoon.
Let the dark womb of the earth
practice her midwifery
on the seedling.

Let us be witnesses.

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