Stuffing flags in the window
and calling it home
valuing our space
as our space!
Picking up rocks from the driveway
like when we were little
rescinding our past
like some nightmare of repitition!
Respecting each other
for what we couldn't accomplishment
a moment of volition, power of choosing!
Hiding our faults to pretend respect
hating those who judge us
feeling reproof for no good reason
denying our self-worth!
Needing a deliverer ~ yet paying rent
to those who trap us ~ indefinitely,
like some caldron of reprisal
not quite ~ not yet ~ Hell!
Knowing the housing market
is indolent in its means
while we sacrifice our daily bread
to just keep going ahead!
Then hearing the voice of a child, next door
already three, already brave
fighting for his life ~ myositis, rare
encouraging us ~ calling us friend!
And sharing his hope
to belong in tomorrow
and the hurt breaks through
into a tear ~ and we wake up!
It's our resources
that have made us demur
not our being alive
as the cure!
And he is Indian ~ Dakota
knows he's stressed
sees the parent's longing
to be on their own ~
Emergency ~ refused by the tribal clinic
some new Government restriction,
Ambulence to Rochester ~ Mayo
rare ~ need to study ~ his case!
Big debt ~ bill, couldn't pay, thousands,
tribal clinic say "no deal"
wrong rescue squad
not in their jurisdiction!
But still Indian, and little
Bigger clinic, Minnesota ~ famous
millions of dollars for research,
yet the little guys ~ still get the bill!
The Mother, trailer, empty jars, stacked by the door
ready for the next donation
posted at the truck stops
grocery stores, post office!
If you want to study the poor
or sick, or needy
rent a space where it already exists
like a woman Mayor of Chicago once did!
Back in the 80's, when thoughtfulness
still was an option!
Copyright © Paula Larson