SUNDAY MORNING
Let us talk about it A quiet Sunday morning The mountains snuggle into the mist The sun sparkles the village The day begins Where are we and where are we going? Still a new year to come A month has passed Without word Your voice Sounds like gunfire A mother dead and a nurse as well, Renee and Alex Loved ones, so dear Empty chairs at the table Mourned forever We would like to say It isn’t us We are not like that
