It’s like hot coins 
Thrown on to a deep snow bank 
A sudden urge to 
Cut the kite string 
Let it free

Speeding on the track
Faster than humanly possible 
Liberated
Urged on by memes not facts

Heating more coins
We fly out to the armada
Of icebergs 
Crashing onto
Tropical beaches 

Modern 
Streamlined this
Cluster bombing 
from lifeless drones 
The rumblings 
Continue into the snowy night
The mothers sobbing at the ruin 

Again at the celebration 
of freedom 
Remembering greatness 
that never was 

This all makes sense 
As octogenarians
Night blind 
Steer the ship of state 
Into oncoming traffic 

12/5/2023 – Scot Gresham-Lancaster Brunswick, ME