I lift the soft old envelopes
by the corners gently
of letters my father wrote to his mother
from world war II Europe,
and read in real time what fear was like
when it was trying to give hope.
I have a pile, too,
of pen and ink cards made by a friend
who died almost two years ago –
always so beautiful,
always late for my birthday.
They will never be late again.
Here is the copy I made
of my mother-in-law’s absentee ballot
the year she was ninety-five.
How proud she was
that she still mattered,
and (with the stamp sideways)
my grandson’s careful enfolding
of a new day’s art,
sent across the country
to be put on the refrigerator.
Of course, I love the skype-and-zoom
of these days’ connections.
My sentimental revisits
are merely collateral damage,
to the stealing of an election
now that the Post Office
is a political pawn.
Your reflection speaks volumes. God help us if we have to endure yet more years of this corrupt administration and Trump’s minions.
Amen to that.
I continue to pray that we survive this presidency. The thought that we could have four more years of Trump terrifies me.
I am terrified as well about his winning and fearful as well about what he will do if he loses to unbalance the country.
This is a scary time. I never thought we would be living in times like these in the United States, where democracy itself would be in danger.