Given the opportunity to
Change the course of world history,
He takes small caterpillar bites,
Leaving hole-riddled leaves
Unable to sustain themselves or
The tree they live on.
One small taste provokes another.
A vulnerable organism succumbs,
Rapacious parasite feasting on
Weakened frame.
He stands satisfied,
Planning the next insult.
Countless years of
Doing the same thing
Distilled into this single
Moment where courage and
Valor might rise and transform
The course of history
To benefit all rather than some.
Pause and reflect on the
Import of the situation, the
Immense weight of gravity.
Proceed with absolute
Confidence and do
The small thing.
Looking at how
He treated her,
A stark epiphany:
He never respected her.
Something so elemental,
Taken for granted,
Love, professed but
Not demonstrated.
It all becomes clearer.
“Everything will be okay,”
She reassured me, but
I knew that this time was
Different, I had seen it
In history books, where
Things start to unravel
Due to some strange
Confluence of events and
The people who cause them;
Unbalanced, undesirable,
Leading in an entirely
Alarming direction.
Remember that time when you
Tried to start that thing that drove
You crazy and made you doubt
Who you really are and caused
You to flee into a situation where
You had even less control and
Wished you could return to the
Time when you simply were
Fearful of what you didn’t know?
Bright, shiny,
Absolutely beautiful.
Bursting with excitement,
Potential, optimism, intelligence.
A whole life of
Unlimited possibilities awaits,
Places to go, people to meet,
Dreams to be made real.
Not so fast,
We do things a certain way
In this family,
In this town.
Clamp on rusty shackles of
Societal expectations, constrictions.
Know your place,
Be a good girl.
She felt unwhole and did the unwholesome.
She felt unloved and loved no one, including herself.
She felt unsatisfied and so her life went.
A slow, tortuous, paralyzing journey to places
She didn’t want to visit, with people she could
Not have cared less about.
Flipping through the images stored on a chip
As cold and impersonal as the experiences
She pretended to enjoy.
Things haven’t been
Going too well lately
In our little town.
Sure, we’re still proud of
Where we’ve been and
Who we are but
Times are tough,
You gotta do what
You gotta do.
Yesterday the senior center
Shut down, tomorrow the
Food pantry closes its doors,
A week ago the high school
Told kids to share books,
Music and art programs
Disappeared years ago.
Tough choices,
It’s gotta be done.
I immediately see it
In his eyes,
Just beneath the bluster,
Pervasive fear, and
Not just a flicker but a
Fully formed flame,
Pleading for solace,
Some kind of relief from
All these years of pain and
Everything he’s done to others to
Try to silence the agony.
He doesn’t let me in, but it’s
Clear he knows I know, and
Quickly moves on to the
Next person who doesn’t.
