The children are laughing in the backyard as they splash with the hose.
The chickens scatter, but it only reminds me of the seeds we’ve burned
scattered like my thoughts
like our fears
like fuck you.

The children are laughing in the backyard as they race the sunlight naked in their joy
I hear their laughter and it sounds too much like screams.
They don’t understand what we’ve lost.  They don’t understand why Mother’s fear is a scent on the wind.
They delight in the hose, water play, and delights

without knowing how violent the world has become.