Everything, It Seems, is For Sale
Everything it seems, is for sale,
perfect little tags dangling
of each item and promise.
I am not sure what to make of it.
My world is a place in need of grace and peace,
and it seems the cost is too high
for anyone to buy.
I do not understand this.
Perhaps I am too simple, too stupid
to know why the things that cost nothing,
peace and grace,
seem to have no value
until they are needed desperately
by those who starve,
their price tags draping off each appendage
like teacups in an antique shop.