The Day After the Inauguration

A poem

The sun rose into my apartment,
reflecting off the rooftops covered in snow,
casting a holy glow in my kitchen
through the yellowed blinds I had drawn last night.
It is not a sign. It does not give me hope—but
it does remind me that, yes, there will be awe.
Whatever we wake up to, whatever horrors
these small men wreak upon the Earth,
the Earth will keep turning, and forgetting,
and turning.