"Incantation" - David Noah

"Incantation" - David Noah

This is the way we are in August
in America in 2017:
Nazis march in Charlottesville
and the president stands silent
until he speaks up.
For them.

This is the way
we wait with anger and hope on street corners,
holding signs and looking for signs,
while our cellphone screens blister
with news served too fast to eat,
and civil war is in the air.

This is the way
the enormity of the wound—
to the country,
to the invisible pertinent currents
coursing through our metaphysical bloodstreams—
staggers mothers walking down streets,
stuns birds from the skies,
and makes fathers stumble against walls.

This is the way
the eclipse comes
in a rushing silhouette across America,
as a sign.
Or a symptom.

This is the way
the shadow slides into our pockets.

This is the way
dragon eats the sun,
the way bear rears into the sky
and tears apart the light,
the way demons sweat darkness
and speak up for monsters.

This is the way
we say to each other:
we have reached totality.

And this is the way
we look at one another
and remember the light.

This is the way we wake up.
This is the way we turn and find our way home.
This the way we remember.
This is the way we begin.

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