A Poem

Douglas Caraballo Mahairas


Photo by SwapnIl Dwivedi on Unsplash

Why ask the question?
Why pursue it at all?

I walk from the house, down
a path of concrete slabs.
the small bodies of bees
flit like cupids about my head.

I run now across the spine of the world.
I run my fingers across the spine
of the republic.