My first poem was written in anger. I was upset with the world. It was twenty-five years ago. RCH
MOCKINGBIRD
As if to spite the darkness, it filled the starless
night with voices usually heard only in the
light of day, and I, the witness, amazed at such
boldness from such a simple creature, found
myself filled with a question, why should I hold
my voice, in the darkness of ignorance or the
starless nights of apathy?
Randy Hoyle