Sing: no more makeshift crosses
In the gangplank desert,
No more “dogcatcher trucks,”
No more jawbones under the moon—
Bring your rebellious grit,
Like a bromide or a borderland candle,
To our bigotry-is-commonplace republic’s
Chaos. Bold anima, dissenting angel,
Among the betraying cliffs and dry washes,
The yellow plumes of the palo verde,
Be runagate Harriet in a midnight cane field
(General Tubman!), be Martin bravely writing
In an abysmal Birmingham jail.
Yes, your boundless shepherd’s gallantry,
Your on-tap compassion
Is the rescuing sip
& the heaven-sent gourd required
At all our desperate crossings.
Copyright © 2022 by Cyrus Cassells. From The World That the Shooter Left Us (Four Way Books, 2022). Used with permission of the author.