(Epp-ih-fights)

Using something as a perch to grow on: a rock, a tree. Gathering nutrients from rainfall, leaf litter, dead insects, and bird droppings

While we were out for breakfast yesterday, a young man at the next table received a clothing gift from his tablemates. Turns out he was an evacuee from the LA fires. That prompted the following poem.

Surrounded by many
who are trying hard to
hold on.

Clinging to hope
that light is
not gone.

Raising ourselves
to a 
higher ground.

Living on 
small bits of
nourishment found.

We are fighters
who want
to survive.

Holding on to hope.
Keeping ourselves
alive.