no matter what we pray,
no matter what we cry,
no matter what the news anchors deadpan
away,
no matter what the truth is,
no matter the color of the sky,
no matter the eleven years i've waited
for this chance,
no matter the rights of us the people,
no matter what we pray,
today is the day history is being made.
today is the sharp edge of the knife.
today we are pleading and screaming for freedom.
today we are being prepared to die.
Posted in response to the challenge Election '24–Women.
Inspired by the poem 'Fog' by Carl Sandburg.
He comes quietly, night after night,
soft four-toed footprints in the frosted grass.
He rolls over, and over, stretching
i would like to write a psalm made of salt dedicated to whomever Lot’s Wife really was.
for people cannot be made of perfection
and people cannot be made to never hold grudges. what if
we try to sleep in over break
because there's nothing left to do until December anyways
and it won't really work because dawn always opens my blinds
and their cat gets the zoomies at 6 but
Comments
A healthy interest and care in the world around you is something to hold onto. Keep your spirits high; we don't know the outcome yet!
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