OF A SINGLE VOTE
He stood, somewhat defiantly,
Among the “well” dressed
Frayed pant cuffs
Missing a button on his flannel
Well-worn shoes
Gnarly, veined hands
He would vote today
It is his duty, his privilege
An honor in his mind
To participate
In choosing a leader.
The line moved slowly
Each step narrowing
The parameters of his decision
He had listened to the rhetoric
Shook his head at the venomous accusations
Witnessed a sitting president
Ousted…in a bloodless coup
He worried about his grand kids
Knowing he would not be there for them
Would not be able to help them understand
Damn, he didn’t understand
And yet, he moved with the silent line
Pondering the repercussions
Of a single vote.
Copyright © John Lawless | Year Posted 2024
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