JD DeHart
The Anti League
They have banners and sashes,
these quiet old lady patrol people,
their cracking voices infused
with some otherworldly
demonstration vigor, now seizing
memories of years ago, sit-ins
and nationalism, yielding themselves
to their new great cause – forget
the wisdom of years past, forget
the girls who need the extra care,
rocking their screeching young,
not getting the expected;
the league now marching,
their cracking voices laying down
proverbial knowledge for buttoned-down
old-fashioned homespun reason
where there is no reason,
only a cause and a static sound.
A Weekend’s Promise
Walk with me along the pathway
I walked when I chose to matriculate,
look now daughter at the piece
of your future that can be in this place,
that can grow full and unleashed;
do not be burdened with the mundane
life you see in front you, do not listen
to what the boys say about you
and what you can and cannot be,
listen to voice of my teacher, the sweet
high tone or learning as she unpacks
a sentence, noun plus verb.
Caricature
It would be easy to paint you
as a stark figure, my dear,
but do not illustrate yourself
as others do, leaving out the important
details, the parts of you
that make you whole, do not listen
to the angry voices of those
who should love you, for they only
criticizing themselves, then curling
back on a slight manipulation,
do not blame yourself for the fault
that lies in others;
so weave your portrait, strong,
strong like you can be, like you are,
and exist, a hope and complete circle.
No comments:
Post a Comment