After the Vote

On the morning

after the vote

a star somewhere will collapse

in upon itself,

sending tiny ripples

across the universe.

A woman will birth

her first child, 

a grandfather will breathe

his last. 

The hawk who lives at the top

of the cottonwood tree will again

hunt his breakfast as birdsong breaks

just on the edge of the light.

The towns will wake.

The cities will come to life.

The workers will go to work,

and the disease among us 

will rage on.

Some will still stand surveying

shattered homes, dreams

incinerated, while some

will pace a world shrunk 

to the size of a room

behind a door


The same hungry man will stand

on the same corner.

The same bewildered child will board her bus

and sit alone. 

The same destitute

will feel the same desperation

they faced yesterday.

The same woman

with her wealth,

her two hands and feet, 

her two ears,

her one mouth,

will decide

what is most important.

On the morning

after the vote,

my children will still rise

with questioning eyes to watch, 

as ever,

what I will make of this day.

11 thoughts on “After the Vote

  1. When the voting’s over, done,
    I think it might be best
    to give myself a little fun
    and a little rest.
    These times have been so trying,
    with riots in the streets,
    sundered fam’lies crying,
    and masks worn at track meets.
    Sports are now political,
    and I’ll be confessin’
    I no longer watch the NFL;
    don’t need another lesson.
    Need a break from messed-up world of ours;
    so I think I’ll go vacay on Mars.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Julie, this was incredible. I sent it to my children, and my daughter responded by adding a few lines. It touched my heart so much. I will send it on to you. I hope it is okay. Thank you for inspiring her. I also would love to chat sometime about taking some writing lessons from you. I would, of course, pay you, but I know you are a very busy mom and children’s minister!



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