for the people who have no names

Moonrise again.
Only humans need a word
for sorrow, a wolf just howls.
the howls just fade away
and a man might fade away as well.
The silence that follows is empty.
Now it is late. The moon rises
over the Sacramento Valley.
Walking alone, the sound of feet
moving through the tall grass.
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A child holds a silent dream, without rancor or duress, in your hands, in y…
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