An American Sonnet of Change, of Hope
Two thirty a.m. and a start burnt out.
Heads bow’d; disbelief echoed silently,
drowned by men: white, old, laughing heartily.
A future now fragile needed to shout -
a democracy once tall now stood stout.
Country of immigrants shook violently
against those who would alter policy –
but what could be done? Demand a recount?
Some sought to flee; some determined to stay -
hopeful of positive change, after all:
one mistake would not cause others to pay.
A new start: no threat, no worry, no fray.
Marches, groups and lobbies will stand not fall
to look with pride not fear on that day.
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