Holding My Breath
I practice holding my breath
sweat, tremble, and wait, fear
I’ll find we’ve come what we scorned
it’s nothing new – books banned, books burn
journalists vanish into the despot’s hat
knocks in the night
snick of a blade
report of a pistol
hail of bullets
a bomb rattles windowpanes twelve blocks away
while peaceful protesters march
handcuffed
down the road of obscurity and into the night
rulers seeking empires danger themselves
just ask Napoleon, Hitler, Stalin, Melosovich, Mao,..
Could someone nudge Trump?
This year’s junta issues warrants of whim.
Were Japanese-Americans “happy campers?”
Did anyone ask Der Fuhrer’s Jews?
12 thoughts on "Holding My Breath"
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Shew, this piece has a lot to unpack in it–and I am struck by the sounds and horror of “books banned, books burn”
Thank you, Shaun! I wanted that line to have punch.
Strong imagery and truths!
This past weekend’s images have been burned in my mind, and these lines:
“while peaceful protesters march
handcuffed
down the road of obscurity and into the night”
resonated with me. Wonderful everything here. Of a not so wonderful here in this world.
Thanks ever so much, Michele!
Love warrants of whim! You captured the times and history so well!
Gosh! Thank you, Linda!
You capture the fears of the moment. Good job!
Thank you, Dana!
We hold our breath with you!
“Community” on all possible levels is how we will survive! <3 Thank you, Bud!
That second stanza, whew!
Thank you, Pam!