Two Poems and a Haiku
My Hands When I look at my hands, Their pasty milk color, I see the shade of a people who have Killed, raped, conquered. True my people aren't all malicious. That small white-capped continent above the dark steak Responsible for much technology, industry, and art, But it would have helped had they been a little wiser. My people have used their materials well But they forgot to use their wisdom. If only they could have seen other peoples as equal What a different world to live in now. Change The reptile sheds its skin, Which grows back little Different each time. It changes slow and steady. Never the same, never the same. Youth is different than adulthood, Adulthood is different than old-age. The reptile is not the same being twice. Every year, every second Different. Science proves it: neuroplasticity. Nature changes reptile, Reptile changes nature. The skin will not stop shedding, To live is to change.