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      July 21, 2023Our TribeEd Hack

      The day goes on regardless of the plight
      of man. And that is right. We are the dust
      that spoke, that saw the will of gods in flights
      of birds, but never learned, not once, to trust
      the one across the stream who held his spear
      as we held ours but spoke another tongue.
      We got what we deserved because our fear
      matched theirs, and then we prayed and taught our young
      to fear. We looked into the mirror of
      their eyes and, satisfied, we died. The hate
      would now go on; our kids were tough.
      The mystery was gone. We knew their fate.
      So let the day be gold or blue or green—
      what’s true is what we’ve done and what we’ve seen.

      from #80 - Summer 2023

      Ed Hack

      “I started writing poetry at 16 when the world opened up to me in such a way that a poem seemed the only way to try to make sense of it. I wrote free verse for years, was published here and there, then, three years ago, feeling the need for the discipline of metered language and form, turned to the sonnet, to explore its precisions and passions.”