Train Spider

Little spider
Spinning webs across the lights
Above our crowded heads
On the ride home
You end up so far from where you started
But flies taste the same anywhere
Don't they

Beautiful Children

My heart
Wants to believe
Those beautiful children
Pale or tan or black
Lying on Greek beaches
In pink pants
In bloated diapers
Shoeless
Rocked on the waves
Cradled on the sand
Will wake like mine

My heart
Wants to believe