Rigney Deliso

The leaves fall down like routine, 

Their colors crisp and brown. 

I want to freeze this moment

When November comes around. 

Down the Interstate, 

Stuffed in an SUV, 

A perfect suburban one. 

You shake your knees. 

Mom tells you to stop shaking. 

She's finally ahead in the presidential race. The way my hope lifted when I heard that news. And the disbelief on my face? How, after ten months? I was sure I was going to be screaming from my porch on election day, "Why, why?