DRIVING THROUGH ALABAMA
by Katherine Riegel
Spring has dropped
purples and yellows like someone
with so much abundance
they’re careless of loss.
Hot pink azalea bushes crouch
round across lawns
and I dream they wander,
peaceful as cows
but wiser. I’m not
from here, but even I know
the movies get it wrong.
No, I don’t believe everyone
who voted fear into power
is innocent, or merely misled
by money and lies. And no,
I don’t know why
the ignorant crowd under
the same umbrella with the rich
as though it’s designed
for more than one. Just—
I think if the land had a voice
it might say, like God said
to Job, You cannot understand.
That, I’m willing to believe,
even as I bow my head
and recite the litany
of beauty: wisteria, jasmine,
gardenia, bougainvillea, camellia…
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