Day 11: Dispatches from the Belly of Empire

Morning Commute
(a haiku-ish sonnet)
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

the Appeal to Heaven flag
at the turn on Kinderhook Road
is gone, taken by the wave

perhaps, or November’s winds,
no more to startle me out of compassion
on my morning commute

still, the House Republicans
seem determined to continue
to protect war criminals and pedocrats

determined to host
the worst urges among us,
the hatefulness and spite—

the light is rising in the east, pink clouds
above, and mist-covered hills ahead