Red Smoke

Day 1 Of President Elect trump

the nation falls and rises
following the pattern of my ribs
expanding so i can breathe
quickly lowering

eyes blinking open and shut
blank gaze
searching for a new perspective
in a country painted blood red

the room is filling with fire

hands are holding mine
different colors
different sizes
but the same spaces are present for fingers to intertwine
i feel fear within the sweaty grip

a voice comes over the the television
the sound is comforting
but words inaudible
the smoke continues to consume

i strain my ears to hear the solution
the plan
the cure to my helplessness

they say it is okay to grieve
but now we must rise

but how?

i can't make out the murmurs.
sirens fill the grey air.