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To the Editor:

I wrote the poem below the morning after Election Day, when things were still undecided, and it could have gone either way. There's been so much build-up and anxiety around this election, and my hope now is that, no matter who we voted for, we can all move beyond that, back into gratitude for some of the small things in our lives we might have neglected because of all the worry and uncertainty.

James Crews,


After Election Day

The sun still rose today

as it always does, striking

the snaking arms of our geranium

and lighting each wide leaf,

the heat seeming to make them

more pungent as I brushed past,

lifting all the window shades.

Outside, slick brown leaves left

clinging to oaks shone at dawn

like sheets of hammered copper

that rattled in the slightest wind.

There were no tears for us here,

though we shook our heads

and asked each other, What now?

as I poured the boiling water

over coffee grounds in the filter

and leaned closer to breathe in

the fragrant steam, more grateful

than ever for the pleasure

of small things.


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