When I am sleepy, when I watch Monet’s willow from behind the soldier’s arm
When I think how he decided to stay, decided not to fight, to sublimely ignore
the revolution…
I think about how childhood must be, how dreams are, how there must be a place we can go that is not of this world, though it may be in it. How our minds can set their boundaries at the last quivering leaf, the 80th layer of blue, and then after that, be it war, or want, or misery that lay beyond, all simply fades to black.
-Nina Alvarez
Poem of the Month 
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