I felt the tightness in my chest at Costco. Fresh tension contracted my shoulders as we passed through aisle after aisle. My “I voted” sticker rested on my new burgundy shirt. But so many of the shoppers I passed had none.
first misgivings
not even closed yet
the polls
We watched the elction coverage that night. The early returns went as expected. Red states filled with victories for Trump. His electoral count toward 270 jumped ahead of Harris’. Still, the night was young. But as more & more states filled up, my misgivings rose. Yes, more blue states reported in with victories for the Vice president. But Georgia Pennsylvania remained too close to call. & Wisconsin showed troubling signs. Where were all the Harris supporters? What happened to the full rallies, the positive predictions, the joy?
sinking feeling
& this sudden cramping…
something I ate?
Returns continued as State polls closed. Even with the additions of New York, Illinois, and California, the red expanded across the electoral map. & Trump edged closer to the coveted 270. I wasn’t watching when CBS news called Georgia, North Carolina, and Pennsylvania for the former president. But I learned it at 3 in the morning when I glanced at my iPhone, and saw Trump had 268 electoral votes to Harris’ 206.
Heartbreak
an all-to-familiar
desolation
The emotional hangover of VP Kamala Harris’ defeat overshadowed my morning. It followed me on the drive to work & hid in plain site as I moved amidst my students. One had her head down, crying, during my first Senior English class. Two of her friends escorted her to our school’s social worker. Whether it was post-election grief or not, I can’t say. Somehow, I made it through the rest of the day, though I had no time to process my own grief. But that night, at the Wednesday “Beginners” sit at my zendo, I sat zazen, & mourned the loss of the country I thought I knew.
head bowed
breathing out
despair
I pass through the rest of my sorrow today. Another day’s work has passed. & I face the reality of what a second Trump presidency may mean. But today, he is not the president. Nothing untoward has happened yet. Meanwhile, I put out the call for poets to join me in a fresh resistance. I prepare again to stand for the principles upon which our society has thrived, and will again. & I answer the call, once more, to bear witness to the marginalized, tell their stories, and protect them from whatever comes.
getting
into “good trouble”
sunrise
Bjorn hosts OLN #373 over at dVerse.
The Pub is open! Come join us!
Frank J. Tassone 
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