I hear my neighbor shooting volleys
of bullets into the woods

and wonder if he’s imagining people like me
tied to his trees.

Of course, this land is your land, this land
is my land, and crown thy good with brotherhood, etc.

but you get the feeling that the grapes of wrath
aren’t stored in the purple mountain majesties any more.

When we were young we thought there was
a pretty good chance that we would overcome someday

and we didn’t think we needed to add inshallah.

“Toughen up buttercup!” I hear FDR telling me,
“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”

But I don’t find that very comforting these days.

I call my neighbor to ask if it’s safe for us
to walk in the nature preserve

next to his property. He says, no problem, Tom,
which seems a little vague to me.

Did he see us standing on the corner with our
“No Kings” signs last Sunday?

If Abe Lincoln had the guts to stand up
to the anger of his era

and say he was sure the better angels
of our nature would prevail, I should be able

to summon whatever’s required
to exercise my right to take a walk in the woods.

“These are the times that try men’s souls,”
Thomas Paine wrote that winter

when men were deserting Washington’s army.
“The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot

will in this crisis shrink from the service
of their country.”

Am I a sunshine patriot?

I haven’t heard my neighbor shooting for a while
so I think I’ll go pursue some happiness

in the woods and trust those better angels
haven’t given up on us.