Here, But Not Here

Buds scream from the trees
and flowers fight to be released from earth
as temps rise and dip, rise and dip.
Spring is here, but not here.

Soft light cuts the dark
and coffee promises to work its wonders
as eyes open and shut, open and shut.
Morning is here, but not here.

Gliding through the room
and catching her reflection staring back
as thoughts come and go, come and go.
She is here, but not here.

Voices cry in fear
and masked enforcers gladly strike again
as people appear and disappear, appear and disappear.
Justice is here, but not here.

Here, but not here…

Tori Burris Inkley
4/9/26