The tick that carries spotted fever

malaria that mosquitos pass

on to mere kids, and then the cancer

that twists, subverts, deforms normal cells–

who can ever say this world is good?

The mind that in an empty room hears

loud voices saying run, hurt, be bad

not good, rape, kill, then die yourself.  Fears

are all around.  There is no hope left.

We can be as deformed as our world.

Can someone befriend us when bereft?

Join us with our demons in the cold?

Maybe not help us to understand

evil all around, but hold our hand?

– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, June 7, 2012

2 thoughts on “Nature

  1. It’s always preferable to have an answer, to fix things. As Steve indicates, many times the best thing one can do is allow one’s shirt to soak up the tears of the other. Silent comfort is a sweet and accepting gift.


  2. That is a wonderful poem. It really is true that people who are suffering don’t feel the need to understand suffering as much as they feel the need to have someone there to comfort them. Very well put.


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