What is needed is
not a blanket apology
but one rich in specificity,
the rare recognition of one's complicity
in the ignorings and unrightable wrongs
that arise from our very existence.
More often we don't bother
to see our roles so clearly.
The parts we play seem small.
I am only one, we whisper.
Yet ramifications circle the globe,
touching everything.
All this is true,
and just thinking of what I have left out,
not done,
failed to acknowledge
makes me want to take to my bed
to avoid
inadvertently
doing more harm.
Copyright © 2022 Ann Tudor
Musings blog: http://www.scenesfromthejourney.blogspot.com
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