Hoarders and Sharers

Always will be, perhaps.  Business as unusual.  Secrets kept.  Visions shared. Squirreling away nuts for winter.  Atomic winter. Opened, revealed, vulnerable, linked. Smartly mobbing everyman woman the dawn of our last gasp. A collective exhale where only little eddies survive fumigation.  Where are the barn swallows now that the snow has gone? The symphony has altered, the cry of the sea turtle remains twittering.  A canary in the coal mine no one could capture.  Complete deglacialization prior to freezing over.  The ringing in my ears insects looking to land somewhere. Hoarder’s wealth entombed knowledge, museums no seeums.  I reached out to touch the finest skin, their voices a growing chorus.  We shared and broke bread, touched the quantum fringe that we could detect.  Already within us the power only shared.  Not mine but ours.  The hour glass vessel half empty running energy became full.   An ark of awareness. This is wealth, lateral, micro molecular.  Young eyes see, listen for our voices that we must share for them to breath. Sharers groundswell a backwards tsunami of hope I hope. The fossilized fuel thinkers think business as usual to their impoverishment.  The underlings will remain, in pockets, eddies of sustainability. Because they shared.

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