Weariness guides

 
Weariness guides feet into the forest.
Weariness guides steps into the city.
Weariness sits with me on the bus and in my living room
where I open my laptop to check email and Facebook,
and feel my nose and chin fall to the keyboard, eyes closed.
I’m wiped out from the moments I get dressed in the morning
to the hour I climb into bed—nap or bedtime—and I sleep.
Sleep deep. 
I’ve tried cures: vitamins, breathing more air in fewer breaths,
aerobic exercises, and physical therapy.  I haven’t tried pills,
but I’ve tried “summer reading” instead of listening to news.
I’ve pretended all is well in my nation: that experts and scientists
run the departments of government with enough employees
to do the job, that we value our treaties and promises to those
we’ve allowed into our country.  That we value democracy.
That we value women, that we value the rich diversity of us.
And it helps.  It helps to get angry
imagining how life could be, anger
overrides the weariness enough
to make one more effort
before weariness sets in again.
Then I look for anger again, or for one friend who gets it,
who maybe brings over another mailing list, or another picket sign,
because we can’t give up.  We are the resistance.
We are the non-violent, alert and enthusiastic, revolution.

For my prompt "Weariness" at What's Going On? 

 

My blog poems are rough drafts.

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© 2025 Susan L. Chast