Shawn L. Bird

Last year,

we met to discuss how we were flourishing,

what made this place so wonderful,

so welcoming,

so special.

This year,

I read your words about us,

and my body weeps at what has become

of our once wonderful

welcoming,

special

place.

Tension in my shoulders.

Stomach churning.

Nails bitten.

Eyes clouded.

Head throbbing.

Make do with less until there is nothing left.

Remake what was precious and original

into tiny boxes that shove our innovation

into boring cookie cutters

and the only flourish is from the arm

cutting us to fit.