I sleep wide awake between
butterflies and bullies
counting sheep morphed into tribes.
With the new social of antisocial
agree is God and truth is the devil
when it survives the river of lies.
Mining hope from empty, finding
beauty in bare, I fly what could be
instead of a sky polluted with dead air.
In the If Not Now Then When,
The Gray of Blind, even a flicker of peace
can feed a spirit who faces another mountain to climb.
©Susie Clevenger 2019