Dichotomy

Sitting in this quiet library,

looking out at redwoods

taller than its four stories,

it’s hard to imagine 

bombs falling on Tehran,

blood and rubble,

the terrified cry of a new orphan.

Harder perhaps for her

to picture this —

crows instead of missiles

flying across blue sky,

a town so lovely

monarch butterflies

choose to winter here,

mothers and fathers

like mine

who grow old.

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Mary Camille Thomas

Mary Camille Thomas is a native of Santa Cruz who is grateful to make her home on the California coast once more after living internationally and on the road. She studied comparative literature at UC Davis and received a master’s degree in library science from UCLA, which gave her a way to earn a living while making a life among books. Her poetry and essays have appeared in the Monk in the World Guest Post Series, Moving Force Journal, Presence, Porter Gulch Review, Second Wind, Sisters Singing, and The New Story, and she has completed a novel called What Lies Buried about a man reckoning with his family’s Nazi past.

12 thoughts on “Dichotomy”

  1. Mary, my heart is breaking… and breaking open in this dichotomy. Thank you for your words so carefully put together … they reach out and across to hold us. Deep gratitude , Kim

    Get Outlook for iOShttps://aka.ms/o0ukef ________________________________

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  2. SO LOVELY, SO SAD!

    “Listen to yourself and in that quietude you might hear the voice of God.”    –Maya Angelou

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