Acts of compassion. Commons image
By Anne Irwin
I wonder
if the book is closed on the red wave
that wave that’s thirsty for the blood
74 thousand children so far
hungry for mountains of gold
for the land of others
gawdy ballrooms
capsules on the moon.
Has it drowned in its own greed
or is it lurking beneath the surface
waiting?
Have we learned that
our vote is our power
our voice, our teeth?
Have we learned that we cannot be complacent
that there are no heroes
only better candidates
who work for the people?
That chest-thumping narcissism is not leadership
promises are not delivery
that macho grandstanding is not victory?
The humble best is good enough
but is our voice strong enough
is it sustained enough
have we seen enough
to no longer be deluded by the trappings of power?
Rising from their mire
can they regroup
and in the throes of their swansong
bring the world down with them?
Is the book open on the blue wave?
We have to hope.
.
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