Monday, November 14, 2016

The Damage

The Damage

Something we were withholding made us weak
Until we found out that it was ourselves
The Gift Outright, Robert Frost

The results came in,
maybe life gave us too much
at the beginning
and we kept looking

for a path that maintained
enough of a balance
so as not to become
this pestilent air.

Maybe life did not belong
to us anymore,
maybe the things we believed in
were part of the damage,

part of that petulant wind
knocking down the walls
of our nation.

And if we had known the outcome
would we have put our hands together
or looked elsewhere,
renounced everything to stay still
so as not to cross the days that agonize?

This is so immense
it doesn't fit into tears.

We heard the results later.
There’s no greater nostalgia
than that of the future.

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