The Bluebird’s Clock

The Bluebird’s Clock was never meant to house a cuckoo or a mockingbird.

Photo by Dorothea OLDANI on Unsplash

My friend says that politics is “religion manifest” —
A mirror, if you will. Last night, Freedom
Handed us a mirror, cracked.
Deeply flawed. Some dared not look.
Today, the mirrors in the hall are covered—
Draped in Black mourning,
Draped against the haunting shame
Of facing ghosts who can no longer breathe.
Clocks’ hands, and that incessant ticking —
Progress stopped.
For now. This clock’s not made
To house the cuckoo.
For now, the mockingbird has tried
To steal the nest. But we
Will give another bird its due,
Restart the clock, with joy,
And paint it blue.