Back to the forest, by the whispering stream. A cluster of Foxgloves, patches of light. Far, far away from the noise of unneeded guns, unneeded death.
Black lives matter. Blue lives matter. Life matters. Really matters. All life. Policemen and children, women and men. The world in which we live, the one we tear apart, it matters. The world wears black and blue, bowing its head at unneeded death. Light cries and comforts. Life matters.
