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.