Fear

I will show you fear
in a handful of dust,
in a forest full of burnt pinecones,
in a factory full of rust,
in a seafloor full of bleached coral,
in bag full of infant bones,
in a beach full of birds soaked in oil,
in a block full of bombed-out homes.

I will show you fear
in the eyes of a mother in a tent,
in the eyes of a seal on a shrinking ice floe,
in the eyes of a migrant on a jungle trail,
in the eyes of a rainbow-haired child backed to a fence,
in the eyes of a gazelle at a dry watering hole.

I will show you fear
and how to overcome─
when day after day after day twentyfour seven,
millions in the streets shout “Never Again
for Anyone, Anywhere, Ever!”
truth, community and courage can conquer fear.

I will show you fear
in the cankered corridors of power,
chattering at skull-strewn thrones
when those who have been bent to their terror
stand up, raise our heads, straighten our spines
the future will be ours to win.

Margery Parsons is a poet and advocate for a radically different and better world. She lives in Chicago and in addition to poetry loves music and film. Her poems have been published in Rag Blog, Poetry Pacific, Calliope, New Verse News, OccuPoetry, Rise Up Review, Haiku Universe, Madness Muse Press and Illinois Poetry Society, with a forthcoming poem in Plate of Pandemic. Read other articles by Margery.