It’s bad news all around, 
and I lie staring at the ceiling, 
until you take my hand, 
saying, let’s lose ourselves 
in the woods where rivers 
never stop and the birds 
always return and rebuild 
their nests and the beavers 
curate their trees and dams. 

It’s bad news all around, 
and I hold your hand, 
saying, let’s never stop, 
let’s rebuild as many times 
as it takes and let’s curate 
our lives and our resources 
and our environment 
and I’ll hold your hand 
when you lie staring at the ceiling.