a time of fury

by Linda M. Crate

It hurt
crumpled wings beneath me,
I never knew the fall would
hurt this badly,
baldly I was scalped of
my grace and eloquence —
thrust into the dust of inequality,
when my rights were threatened
again; I may not be a rocket
scientist, but it seemed more as if
I were robed in the dust
of battles already won;
yet we were spinning backward
in a society supposedly technologically
advanced, I wonder if Rome can
smell us smoldering in our own defeat —
if we’ll crash and burn beyond the
point of repair because of backward
politics and pointless arguments,
I worry for my country;
and I find vehemence and anger
for politicians, perhaps, I
should pray instead but there’s
a time for fury and I think that time
is now —
I want to know why after all
these years we’re slipping into the
quick sand of the past.