Poem: Summer of 2021

Photo by Rebecca Peterson-Hall on Unsplash

I slog through muck,

a sticky mix of wrongs that reign.

I protest.

I carry with me no sign,

only one lone woman’s heart-scream.

I side-step puddles,

fearful of taking on more dampness, darkness, dread, doubt, despair.

And yet

And yet

In a stagnant pool of tomorrow’s rain

I see, within its waters, reflected

the howl of another woman’s rage.

Despite myself, I hope.


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