I remember this day, in 2017
when we woke up into a new national nightmare,
thinking, hoping, praying,
Maybe it won’t be as bad as we think,
maybe he will ease up on this hate he’s playing with
and do the job he agreed to do.
I remember feeling nauseated,
thinking of all the strong women I know
who were suddenly in more jeopardy than ever
for just breathing, for just being, for trying to
walk down a normal street on a normal day,
or gods forbid on a normal night.
Normal checked out.
I remember waves of despair
as he dug himself deeper into that hate,
decided it was snug and safe and homey for him.
It wasn’t a warm place. Warm would be boring.
It was a hot place. Hot and exciting
and full of pure, red-hot rage.
But enough about him.
Fast forward to another Inauguration Day,
this one full of hope, rainbow brilliant,
showcasing those strong women – no longer so endangered –
and reaffirming the brilliance and beauty
of our Citizens of Color,
to whom we owe everything that this country is.
It was an acknowledgement:
We the People Are One People,
and what separates us is less substantial
than mist in the morning sunlight;
We The People are Stronger Together,
and Love Always Wins.
And at the end of that first day,
One Twenty Twenty Twenty-One,
we watched the news and laughed
at its very dullness, at the return of Normal,
and offered up prayers of thanks
for the dull, unglamorous work of governing.