pack•age

I don't see a mailing address

But it's here at my door

I heard a knock, but I see no one

No coattails disappearing around the corner

As I open it, I'm flooded.

Someone postmarked this

Because they saw the need

And it reached me because I am the need

I add it to the pile growing beside my bed.

The pile I stare at before falling asleep each night,

The pile I turn away from so I can get some rest

The pile that burns my back with its rage

"you careless hater; you privileged elitist.

You are bastardizing kindness with your apathy."

wake up and stretch,

Applying ointment and giving thanks

I do something. I do something... something, I do it - I do something.

On my way out I step over another package.