Hanging On A Thread And A Raindrop

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Image for post
Thanks to Marco Allegretti on Unsplash

Democracy hung on a loose thread tonight
At her limits, nearly frayed
Red in splotches, white undecideds, blue in veins,
Unraveling?? Some wept. Some prayed.

“He’s almost over the top”
I thought I heard a voice
Not about that guy who was always over the top
Once, no one’s, first choice

No. This word thread snapped me back to
A more decent guy,
A clueless, chuckling uncle, sort,
But, today, our only hope to try

That our thread wore so thin, frightened some
We wove this dream from blood, toil and tears
Would we, could we? Shred our fabric to tatters?
to fly a freak flag of fascist fears?

* *

But then I looked outside. The sky burst
With quenching rain
Butterflies flapped toward cover
Hibiscus petals closed again

Birds chattered, ducking under leaves
Trees opened sheltering arms
A million, billion, living things
Coordinated, fled from harms

And like a bright flag flying
In a glistening drop of sky
I starkly saw the thread of our DNA
And our Earth family, you and I,

Our four-billion-year old strand,
Is not easily torn asunder

Remember our sharing family at any
First trumpet blast of distant thunder

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