Posted by: Chris Brew | January 31, 2017

March in January

We do not choose the road that we must tread;
Select the gentlest slopes, the smoothest bends.
There is no steady, rising, upward thread;
This life is not corralled, nor known its ends.
Athwart our forward path the shadows stray
From places that we do not want to go,
Nightmares that on our rattled spirit prey
Whose dread truth we hope we need never know.
But still in ev’ry time there is a choice –
And, that day, many did elect to care.
Nor was it “all just words”, the people’s voice;
We made the promise that “We will be there.”
In daunting times that stray beyond the normal
Words and acts must move beyond the formal.


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