We Make a Fuss

alike and no different
and such as
tawdry vultures

We ready ourselves with
inherently sufficient devices

Meanwhile
the idol
sun
blackens our darkness
and we move our faces away from
gentle shadows

Ah,
no wonder the resistance
no wonder the separation
and it is but a ripple
between
your seat and mine

A small thing and a grave loss

Were that we could embrace a little of both?
the dark and the light
just a little, just for now

a decent call to coalesce

would that the raven and the dove might hold one another upright
with kind regard