Jodi Vander Molen
To You
To you,
vigilant protectors of your
government-issue Social Security
number
To you,
always choosing the
smallest kitten
in the bunch
To you,
oh creators of awkward silences why can't we all
just get along it's the
holidays
To you,
who face the wind who feed the waves
who rock the boat you row
up
stream
To you,
the foot that squeals
the brakes to stop
one pebble
from the
brink
To you,
conscientious objectors,
objecting, objecting, objecting, objecting,
objecting, objecting,
ob
ject
ing
To you,
Facing down a mushroom
cloud with force of
one word:
No
To you,
soft look of love in your eyes
To you,
sobbing into hands
toward television
screen
To you,
patting them dry
grabbing a bell, you boom British-are-coming-style
"Madness! Madness!"
through
the
streets
To you,
Bonnie-Urfers-Sam-Days-Barbara-Lees-Jane-John
Does-Dave-Dellingers
Zinns-Baez-Gandhis-Badshah
Khans
To you,
Whose numbers belie the
might
of your song
To you, I don't salute,
I toast:
As you walk,
you dream us
free.
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