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Credit: Erin Schaff/The New York Times |
every poetic metaphor written to praise democracy.
What if we can undo the harm of four hundred years? What if
we could undo the harm of four? What if those in favor of white
supremacy would hide again just like they did before? Our last
president was Pandora ~ left in charge of this country of ours ~
he gutted it, and evils flew out ~ ones out of sight before.
And hope? It lives. It whispers while gaining strength, and then I trust it will roar:
We'll change ~ we will step up to help new leadership however we can.
We'll offer flowers and nectar, we'll open every door. We'll see
color everywhere we kept too pale ~ and way too male ~ before.
My blog poems are rough drafts.
Please respect my copyright.
If you quote, credit this page.
© 2020 Susan L. Chast
The joy of people in the streets tells us how relieved we are to put toxicity behind us. We have PTSD from what has been an abusive relationship. My relief is huge. Those four years changed me. I could not have taken more. How welcome were Biden and Kamala's words - and character - were tonight.
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