Paris in Morning Sleep now. The city of lights has gone out. The shining beacon The guide through the night Of our fantasies, gone. The Tour looms A sleeping dark giant The only sound, the wind in its frame. The Arc is heavy And silent and grave A tomb for the gaiety Lost in one...

I had the great opportunity to present this poem as part of the arts and culture initiative at the Equity Summit 2015 in Los Angeles this week.  What an amazing experience to be part of this gathering of people who are changing the world through policy and practice that promote equity!  This poem was the opening...