Songwalker

Essays on Restorative Justice: To tear one down so low, to scrape the bottom of society, to sit in cluttered lives of misery…pride broken. Lives woven like basket weavings to form a shape made by restriction. Restriction to land so barren, bleak, and smoke…wind blown smoke that eats away and leaves red smoke that fills eyes, nose, and mouth. Smoke that fills shoes, clings to pants. Restriction to land colored red that bares no fruit, no life save scrub brush and tough grasses. Poverty…who knows or understands the endlessness of this cycle that beats a brave people down and in the end betrays all. –Joanne L. Bond http://lorivekre.wix.com/the-den-of-the-richly-emotional