In the end, it’s not the end
Of the causes and conditions that brought us here
Of the dizzying fizz of wisdom and folly
Our hearts pump like mollusks
By ancient bivalve habits we’re compelled
Sifting barren clouds of mud
Opening and closing to ourselves
And to each other
I insert my voter card. Click!
The choice, all mine, revealed
In an empty white screened moment
Before the obscuring names appear
Today’s choice the same as yesterday’s
The same as tomorrow’s:
To subsist in cold and sluggish depths
Or heed the unshelled yearning
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Copyright Deborah McGlauflin, November 2012. All rights reserved.
