A week ago, as you see here,
The smoky haze was light,
And served to heighten the colors of the sunset.
Now the haze is so thick we no longer see the sun,
And our skies are a dark relentless sea of gray:
It’s hard to tell the daytime from the night.
A little smoke, like a little conflict,
Might add color to our days,
But too much smoke, like too much conflict,
Drains our lives of color.
It’s time to douse the fires of hate:
What could we do today to work toward peace?
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