Category Archives: POETRY

THE AMERICAN GARDEN

DAFFODILS Louise Annarino, J.D. July 1, 2022

Lack of trust has invaded

in rulings meant to harm.

The Law has always 

been my hope,

stare decisis the blanket

which keeps hope warm

and alive. No more.

The plants in my garden

are travelers, often moved

to new places where 

they better sink in roots

to mend and grow. 

The bulbs, too meander,

carried by squirrels

with short memories

to bloom again.

Such chaos in a garden

must be controlled.

Beauty arises from balance,

the meld of new with old.

It unfurls harmony

in steadfast rules

on which the gardener can rely.

No harmony can happen

when stare decisis flees the garden,

when black robes become shadows

over truths we all know.

The fields ofAmerica will soon lie fallow

because the Supreme Court

has abandoned the land

where democracy grows.

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RESPECTFULLY, I DISSENT

United States Supreme Court Building, Washington, D.C. Original image from Carol M. Highsmith’s America, Library of Congress collection. Digitally enhanced by rawpixel. by Carol M Highsmith is licensed under CC-CC0 1.0

Nine to three line pockets

of those whose greed

suppresses votes,

suppresses women,

suppresses refugees,

suppresses America’s survival

suppresses Earth’s survival. 

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GEESE LESSONS

Photo by RODNAE Productions on Pexels.com

Feathers line the ponds’ paths.

The geese are in their molt.

They willingly pull feathers loose.

They do not fear their loss.

They know feathers are merely the surface 

of who they are, a cultural statement,

not an identity. 

They realize they remain geese

even if every feather is lost. 

They poke no fun at their flock members.

They do not call them “geese in name only”.

They welcome the molt. 

It comforts them to lose well-worn feathers.

Geese accept new feathers.

They know they can fly better

even if they look different.

They accept that different is better.

They are still members of the same flock.

They are still geese, just renewed and improved.

If only Americans could accept the molt

of culture and it well-worn surface.

If only Americans could rejoice in new feathers,

and realize they could fly better

and still be one flock.

We could learn lot from geese.

We could learn to fly in a vee formation

with everyone a leader sharing the point

and bringing the nation

into a new age with the strength and grace

to let go of the old feathers and old fears,

and fly free. If only we were like geese.

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HAIKU / U.S. REP. MARY MILLER

“Saving white life” may

have been a Freudian slip.

The story it tells!

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WOMEN’S MARCH

I would not trade away today

despite the perilous fray

sure to come.

Interesting times they say

should be avoided.

Yet, history turns her gaze

on such days

making us preciously aware

of what truly matters.

Attentively, I hold my heart steady,

bracing, by body ready.

I have marched through the nation’s streets

with tired legs on weary feet

for too many years to count,

hoping to finally count for something.

Ever more alert,

our marching tread announcing

we are here, here to stay.

History has our ear

exactly as we feared.

Today we march side by side

hoping to turn history’s tide.

There is no place to hide

from white male supremacy,

and the greedy bully

too many ride.

I know not what today will bring.

I pray it brings victory and pride

that our Republic has not yet died.

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LAMENTATION

Little girl, bambina,

treasure of daddy’s heart.

A girl-child set gracefully apart

from the boys running free beyond the yard.

Little girl, bambina,

kneeling in the pew.

A girl-child quietly humming the chorus

while the boys sing free up in the choir loft.

Little girl, bambina

patiently waiting for adulthood

a girl-child home obeying family rules

while the boys explore the world.

Little girl, bambina

now grown and flown from home

no longer a mere girl-child

but an America woman fully grown.

How blessed to be an American woman;

Though Italian, and Catholic grown.

Now free to run alongside the  boys.

The world is yours to own.

Little girl, bambina

delighted to be free

and equal to any boy or man.

That is what it means to be an American.

Little girl, bambina,

no treasure now are you aware.

A woman without freedom nor equality,

is your burden, once more, to bear.

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WOMEN AND CHILDREN

The child belongs to the parent.

The child’s thoughts are subject to approval,

The child’s actions under authoritarian  rule.

Bedtime, mealtime, doctor’s visits, school,

playmates, inside or outside, work time or playtime;

all regulated by others.

Discipline applied with no guaranteed appeal.

Childhood is a time of fierce lack of control.

No freedom even to choose to speak or stay silent.

No choices at all until the child grows tall.

Each birthday a gift in itself that freedom is coming.

Children count the days in years.

We all remember those days.

Those days have returned for women.

Their lives are no longer their own.

Their choices are not free.

Their silence is demanded and enforced by law.

Their privacy is invaded by others’ will.

Their paths are  reduced to only those others allow.

Women are now punishable by law.

Women are not children.

Women do not play at life.

Women are life, and that life is their own.

No legal argument can change that truth.

No man can return us to his control.

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HAIKU

Passion breaks apart

fired in ovens too hot.

Cool love lasts longer.

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

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LADY RUBY

Credit: AP Photo/ Jacquelyn Martin

Lady Ruby walks with the Ancestors

on paths treacherous and costly;

on paths where the honorable and heroic

stay focused and resolute.

Truth  lights her path amidst the darkness

of hate and fear, and the lies and threats

of political bullies and white supremacists.

Her faithfulness is a shield.

Her resoluteness is a sword

which pierces the veil of dangerous actors

in conspiracies of hot, decaying  breath

constricting her strength but never defeating it.

Lady Ruby walks with the Ancestors.

They lift her up and show us the story long hidden, 

and now threatened to be forbidden,

lest we learn what we need to know 

to perfect our union and ring the freedom bell

for all Americans. This is the story Lady Ruby tells.

Lady Ruby walks with the Ancestors.

Let us walk beside her.

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THE GLEN

The geese know the way

beyond the pond’s gaze

onto paths which cannot contain them

to stay within its bounds.

In formation they travel

stopping traffic in their wake;

Mom in front, goslings next,

and dad takes up the rear.

We all wait.

Then, wait longer.

No horns blare.

We have learned to live in peace

at the speed of geese,

patient with one another

in this small space,

in this neighborhood of grace.    

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