adrift & unmoored
the realm of politics
feels unmoored from my vision,
this golden mishmash of languages and stories that make my country, make me.
is not political personal as food
or an ambulance arriving at 3 am?
what should we protect from those who cannot protect anything
how do we choose among forest, water, air, children, elders, sick, healthy people to save?
time and again I moor myself to myself
my beating heart
my pulsing circulation
my grounded sit bones.
unasked questions answer
we are therefore we are