Poem | The Poem I Wrote Two Days After the Election Was Called
That morning broke just as beautifully as the two
days before. Having celebrated—the shouts called us out
from wherever we were—we did dance in the streets,
the glee was collective and all out, it didn’t leave us
at any point, and any wa-hoo set off a wave of them
down the block or in the Long Meadow of Prospect Park,
where I met friends so we could sit together, distanced
but happy, listening to the intermittent cheers like
surf crashing. And in the satisfied quiet of the next day,
Jed and I drove to the country and paddled to the middle
of the still lake and sat with our eyes closed facing
the late afternoon’s sun. And that evening we visited
friends in their long yard, there were eight of us,
each couple seated like spaced compass points around
the center, where joy seemed to spool, collecting itself
in darkness....