They gather beneath stars, particles themselves
Among branched trees and crooked paths
Straight stones set standing sentinel, watching the approach.
A wicked bonfire soaks with a cool glow,
A diary meaning, keeping the day
But now it is night beneath the stars as they gather
Amid churches and cafeterias, among school children they huddle
Keeping the world safe from cigarettes,
Cocaine, crack, and inebriation, the pain of remembering and forgetting.
It is communal, like bread passed between lips,
A shrouded moment in which we feel a part of something
No disconnected dots or stars, but a whole, a race, among other things
