Heartbroken Nation
by Caitlin Truesdale

Today, we wake
and look for substance.
Today, we wake
willing our stories to be lines
someone else has told.

Not here, not now, we cry,
while others shout,
“We’ve triumphed!”
How can this be? How did it happen?
Questions echo like bells tolling.

But, we are here.
You, me, them.
The sadness of the schism lingers.

Let it fill you,
move you,
wake us.
This heartbroken nation —
in thought,
and word —

needs tending.