When I Learned Joe Biden Defeated Donald Trump
When I Learned Joe Biden Defeated Donald Trump
By John Field
Imagine a morning when nature
In its purest form of play
And joy its only task
Lends us its book of wonders
With hundreds of uncut pages
Waiting to be filled in.
Instead of November marking time
Until winter arrives,
it’s spring again
Spilling its horn of plenty
Over blossoming meadows
So lovely
They make autumn look fretful
And unsure of itself.
Envision children erasing that flat,
Sandpapered look in their eyes
As they watch dust motes
Prance like acrobats
In shafts of sunlight overhead.
Then take off on a breeze
Like tiny incandescent students
At a flight school, the atmosphere
Above America clear again,
Picture-postcard-blue.
Perfumed by the heady incense
Of lilacs in bloom—and decorated
With a looping confetti of butterflies
Hovering around sunflowers
Humming
With a thousand punch-drunk bees.
Listen! Baby birds—throats tight
As tourniquets—chirp
For something to fall out of the sky
And land in their wide-open beaks,
Soon.
Like them I wait impatiently
For suchlike pleasures to arrive
The day the next president
Of the Divided States of America
Is finally sworn in—and a deep calm
Settles over Washington.
Justice served, democracy restored
And the white house
Blue once again.
John Field lives with his wife Mary in Glen Ellen, California. He studied creative writing at the University of Iowa and received his M.Ed. degree in education from the University of Exeter in England. His poems have appeared in The Atlanta Journal, The Midwest Quarterly, Inkwell, Poet Talk and other publications.