Not to bless, but
desiccate instead
the hot spit
on lips shaping hate
suddenly at center.
The confused backing away,
backs now together wanting
a blessing on pins & posts,
the placards & uncertain plans,
questions, answers, the demands.
Yes, a blessing on a shaking heart breaking
seeing other hearts wanting and thirsty. Yes, a blessing
for the thirsty, for all those with lips cracking, who know now a longing,
yes, a blessing for all those who need water – yes, water – because of this fire.
Carolyn Cushing is a poet inspired by nature and currently obsessed with cells and the first flaring forth of the universe. She has published in Freshwater and was a finalist for the Philbrick Poetry Award of the Providence Athenaeum in 2012.