Sometimes I listen to a podcast, which was recorded long ago.
And I feel a little smug, but sad. For - I'm already in the know.
Musings on what is coming, exist amongst their words
Election results are pending and hope exists in herds.
I sit here sadly with the foresight that - this time, kindness will not win.
I sit happy in the knowledge that hope survives and we will begin. Again.
YOU ARE READING
A poem per day
PoetryA place for poems. One year. 365 poems. A challenge, a journey - a quest to be a better writer.
