One Lamp Left

Liberty weeps and the eagle is dead,
What more is left for there to be said?
My grief becomes a drawing down of all the shades
As if no one’s home, and the bed is unmade.
I lie here sleepless, in covers tangled,
My spirit in the maw of darkness mangled,
Yet hope is a lamp in one window glowing
In a cabin in a field on a night when it’s snowing.

Chani Zwibel is a graduate of Agnes Scott College, a poet, wife and dog-mom who was born and raised in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, but now dwells in Marietta, Georgia. She enjoys writing poetry after nature walks and daydreaming. Read other articles by Chani.