A Writer's Notebook, Day Two-Hundred-And-Seven

I do not know what to say today.  I don't know that anyone knows what to say on such days, unless it is to say that we have too many of them in the world now.  What else is there? 

I read about the shooting and it is just devastating to think what happened.  I'm not really sure what else to say, but that I never feel any less hurt or shocked at such things, and I am glad to say that, but even so, I do expect them in a way that is terrifying.  Such a normalization is something that signals, to me, a dire issue in our world.  Of course, as a write I have to wonder at what I should be doing.

I'm going to leave it with that, pretty much, as I don't even know what I can say right now, but the usual meaningless, even if honest, statements about wanting to send love and aid to those who are in pain. For those interested in helping, here is a link to an article from CNN that provides some options.  I wish that I had something to say.  What good is it to be a poet if I cannot say something today?  I must work on that...

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