change(s)

driving thru Alabama on our way to Michigan...the twisted trees and broken houses. Disaster at first hand. Not news. Real. No electricity. Almost running out of gas. All the volunteers. Just thinking.

The whisper of sunny mornings...

Then memory of empty hands, the tears of loss...

Always the volunteers...helping...caring.

Sometimes I think people are lost

Uncaring. Rude. Selfish. Even hateful.

Then I see the true heart of us

And know it all will be alright in the end.