Who made it possible for you to march?
Tell me, can you tell me–
who filled the salt & pepper shakers
your waiter will twist?
Tell me, can you tell me–
How much of a tip
you left for the immigrant
who made your bed?
Did you think about her as you drifted
off to sleep, worrying about whether
or not the others
would care if you snored? Or was it only
when it came time
to dole out the few crumpled dollars
you discovered in the pockets
of that coat you hadn't worn in ages?
Tell me you will read them more poetry.
Tell me, can you tell me–
Who made it possible for you to march?
Was it the husband or wife who picked up the kids?
The partner who prepared dinner?
The friend who covered a shift?
The teenager you trust enough leave home alone?
Tell me, can you tell me–
what you have inherited from your ancestors?
Tell me, can you tell me–
Who made it possible for you to march?
2 comments:
My republican parents who are spending the weekend with my son. All of those who have come before me, fearless and in fear, to stand up for what is right. The artists and writers who keep us sane and connected and human in the rough times. ��
Beautiful, and right to to the heart.
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