INAUGURATION SUITE
1.
SIGNS FROM 2000
after Mary Oliver
So this is fear.
The sticker on the back of an old truck
says "Pride In Prejudice."
Ten hate groups
with Christian names in Wisconsin.
History is brutal.
I remember the films of Kennedy's
last ride, the black and white stills
of Caroline and John-John
not knowing why.
So this is fear.
I get up to clear that screen
make myself breathe
as if for childbirth
the way I did when the ER staff
yanked my ankle into line.
In two three four
Out two three four.
Voices on the radio sing
of shepherds' gifts
and a fine blanket of snow
covers bare branches.
2.
AFTER 2004
There was no choice
no rest, only brief sails
moments with small children
hours with poetry or music
to remind me why it was still worthwhile
to fight the red state tide
with so little hope
it fit in a baby's bottle.
But out of the rotted wood came other workers
determined not to lose the whole ship
not to let ourselves be brushed down the scuppers
or loaded into the dinghies of politics.
.
So we resolved, re-tooled, re-framed until we were exhausted.
And out of that work came candidates
more likely to think first of the other than the self.
The margins would be folded into the center
on what was left of our hope.
3.
NOVEMBER 4, 2008
Night fell.
The darkness was thin,
Street lamps and dock lights
doubled the town's peaceful size
on the water,
calm,
as if it had just been poured into the bay
to buoy our enlarging hearts.
4.
AND NOW
After the new shock and awe,
the interviews, appointments,
speculations and pronouncements,
in anticipation of the pledge,
the hand on the book, the speech,
we wonder about the scope
of the rot and the remedies.
A black brother says
we should think
not how this man can save us
but how we can save him.
And it is true
his most repeated words were
I can't do this alone, without you,
meaning not just during the campaign,
but for the duration of government
of, by and for the people.
If we hoped to get off the hook of democracy
we will have to learn
to hope for other things
not more or best
but goods designed to last
hundreds of years.
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good, true poem, Estella...
ReplyDeleteand welcome to the blogsphere!
Peace & good wishes,
Sharon A.