The day President Obama was inaugurated, I listened to part of the inauguration as I was driving. A poem came to mind, nearly fully formed.
I rushed to my destination to get it written, and after a quick editorial pass, it was done. It is playful and light, and celebrates the moment for what it was–a moment. And even now, eight years later, I think it one of the better ones I have written post college.
I have shown this poem to practically no one.
I suspect it is silly of me to wish to divorce a poem of this topic from the politics, to have to stand as I believe it to be, rather than have it burdened by the weight of the divide that politics create.
I suspect that is silly–but I am silly.
So it sits, restless, I imagine, on my hard drive. It has been read aloud, recorded even, but always in solitude.
In the end, I fear, the angry, ugly side of the response to something political is simply not worth the chance.
Which is unfortunate.
The only real regret at this moment is that I didn’t make any attempt to send it to him while he was in office. I know the chance he’d see it is very small, but I’d like to think he’d appreciate it.