Like a scrap of china my nephew’s first permanent
tooth juts from his pink gum. I switch off news
of implicent American Civil War. I whip up
macaroni salad & blast mariachi to celebrate
his immaculate flowering. Tomorrow,  I’ll again
stalk injustice like a lioness on the savannah.

Although I peer into threat of an atomic inferno,
I still manage to blossom & stomp. Roco’s cancer
is in remission.  Camille’s lost Springer whines
at the screen door. We are not yet in flak jackets.
Our guts are not yet bleeding from our bellies.
Our skin – for now – is still warm & intact.