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WAKING IN TRUMP’S AMERICA
Jan Steckel

The Statue of Liberty’s arm is tired.
She may have torn her rotator cuff.
She still has dual citizenship,
wonders if her passport is in order.

She imagines lowering her arm,
dousing the torch in the harbor,
boiling the sea and seething Ellis Island.

Friends, look at the person next to you.
Put your arm around their shoulder.
Help them keep that torch in the air.
Tell them you’d never turn them in.
We’re the resistance now.

Deep peace,

 

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Phyllis Cole-Dai

Phyllis Cole-Dai has authored or edited eleven books in multiple genres, including historical fiction, spiritual nonfiction and poetry. She lives in Brookings, South Dakota, USA.

4 Comments

  • Mavis Gehant says:

    What a way to describe it. And an awesome responsibility, duty and opportunity. Mavis

  • cath says:

    ‘We are the resistance now’.
    I so much agree. The words remind me of a poem by Remco Campert. It is in my thoughts often these days. To give you some context: Jan Campert, journalist, poet, writer and member of the Dutch Resistance in the Second World War, was killed in 1943 in camp Neuengamme.
    Remco, his son, also poet and writer wrote this:

    Resistance

    Resistance does not begin with grandiose words
    but with little deeds

    like a storm with a gentle rustling of leaves
    or the cat with a fit of madness in his head

    like broad rivers
    from a tiny source
    hidden in the woods

    like a sea of fire
    from the selfsame match
    that lights the cigarette

    like love with a look a touch
    something that strikes you in a voice

    asking yourself a question
    is how resistance begins

    and then putting that question to someone else

    (translation James Brockway)

  • Oh, my. Goes to the bone. Thank you. I might have to share this elsewhere.

    Peace to you.