After “September, 1918” by Amy Lowell
This morning was the color of sunlight
falling through a spring shower;
Geese swam the pond and their feathers glistened
like the sequins adorning a drag queen’s ball gown,
and the children ran beside them, their laughter
echoing cruelly, as only children’s can do.
Two young men, smiles gilding their faces,
held hands on a bench, making
memories to store on a cell phone.
Someday the hate will stop.
Then, I will recall this morning
and turn it in my mind
and blink at the glittering sequins,
embrace the sun, taste the rain
and touch the warmth of love.
But, anxious today, I worry for them;
it’s still a dangerous world.
T. Allen Culpepper