Strength

by Jenny Morelli

Getting out of bed

already bracing

for what awaits me

when I leave my cozy home

nestled safely in a cul-de-sac,

treelined and tucked away,

Image credit: Valeria on Unsplash

forest creatures co-existing

in my yard like humans

could never do, birds chirping,

squirrels chittering, deer

crunching corn, and myriad more

watching wistfully as we

pull away like taffy and leave

for another day of navigating

gauntlets of aggressive,

distracted, entitled people,

to be greeted by cranky

school security guards

and airport-caliber metal

detectors and conveyor belts

for bags, all daily reminders

that we walk among

unhinged humans with hate

in their hearts and vengeance

on their minds,

just waiting for a security

slip-up so we could be

next on the news as either killer

or victim for a bad grade

or low evaluation that can’t

end any other way

than to end some lives

including their own.

When I think of all the ways

my world could turn dark each day,

I wonder how

I have the strength

to open my eyes

and put on shoes

and propel myself

into this dark reality

so many choose to accept

by averting their eyes

and turning away

from the cruelties happening

to their left, to their right,

above and beneath

because they believe

strength is in dominance

and not compassion.  

***

Jenny Morelli

Jenny Morelli is a high school English teacher who lives in New Jersey with her husband and cat. She is often either inspired by her students or else they're triggering memories in her of when she was young and struggling with her self-confidence. She has been published in a number of literary magazines, including Spare Parts for a novel excerpt, Spillwords for several themed poems, and Bottlecap Press for her own chapbook This is Not a Drill.