Lost
post-election, 2024
This is where I live now: clutching
a nest of thorns and spent blooms.
Last night, an intruder opened every
window of my home to startling cold.
No wood for fire. No socks or coat.
My closets hold spring dresses, thin
cotton, paltry, owned by another woman.
In this strange country, I search empty
rooms for blankets, matches, candles,
an exile, holding dead flowers. Even
their broken bits I pick up, to clasp
what’s fallen, cradling what’s gone.
*
Jennifer Mills Kerr is an educator, poet, and writer who lives in Northern California. Say hello through her website or connect through her newsletter, Poetry Inspired.
I, too, feel like I awakened in a different country, ill-prepared for the reality, for what’s coming. Thank you for this vivid poem that reflects my mindset.
Thanks, Betsy 💜