Election Night

The day the news broke
we awoke in sick confusion
to the crash.
The American dream overturned,
ran off the moral arc’s rails,
and knocked our dreams askew
from their foundations.
Who are we to stand?
Jerusalem fell, and Athens
is pillaged for museums.

The day the news broke
An ancient beast stirred,
and sniffed the air.
My atheist brother read
aloud the book of Job
and no one answered
from the whirlwind
which raged inside us.
A gray rain fell
and the wind blew.

The day the news broke
I planted winter peas
in the dark crumbled earth
behind the home I don’t own,
under the usual Baltimore light
of police helicopters
and the waxing
half-moon.

The day the news broke
a cold rain fell
on new seeds.
They stirred, swollen,
pregnant with nitrogen and possibilities.
They stretched out roots
into a darkening world.