AFTERTHOUGHT


Sunday morning lies abed,
reluctant to awake;
turning over turning
the tears we shared last night.



That nuclear dawn we fear
each day renews our sorrow.
And words, the human curse,
do not bring forth new light.



Only hope's two daughters,
hand in hand together,
our anger and our courage
can put an end to might.


1983
Green Ink #5, 1987

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