The Siren’s Cry

You may think of taxes owed, of union dues, and a careless lot that deserves what it got.

When I hear the sirens cry, I think of this:

Strangers rushing care for strangers. And a community who cares enough to keep a few, always at the ready.

Before you curse the traffic light, bless the road you’re on.

And you will find, your gratitudes, are bursting at the gates.

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