The poem was written for the group of women who have accompanied one another on our journeys ever since our time as high school classmates at Emma Willard School in the 1960s. We remained in daily – often hourly- communication throughout the impeachment process. Our outrage and grief was always accompanied by the love that has always bound us to one another.
For my sisters
We are shuffling through the shards of a failed civilization.
Shuffling through the shards of a failed civilization,
I still hear the voices lifted
Still dream the echo of the dream
Even the dream itself
Still see the Winged Mask on the wall
And the photo of my best friend
Forever beautiful, forever young.
I still hear the voices lifted
Still dream the echo of the dream
Even the dream itself
Still see the Winged Mask on the wall
And the photo of my best friend
Forever beautiful, forever young.
Shuffling through the shards,
I still touch the shape of justice
Shape without substance
But shape nonetheless.
I still taste the coffee
Taste the cornbread
Taste the pho
Taste Miss Dorothy’s pound cake
Baked with love.
I still touch the shape of justice
Shape without substance
But shape nonetheless.
I still taste the coffee
Taste the cornbread
Taste the pho
Taste Miss Dorothy’s pound cake
Baked with love.
Amid the shards of a failed civilization,
Justice dies daily
In the back seat of a cop car
In the courtrooms
In the classrooms
In the execution rooms
(They call them chambers.)
Justice dies daily
In the back seat of a cop car
In the courtrooms
In the classrooms
In the execution rooms
(They call them chambers.)
And justice dies daily
On the floor of the Senate
On the floor of the Senate
On the floor of the Senate
(They call it a chamber.)
Justice dies daily
Live on cable TV
And NPR.
On the floor of the Senate
On the floor of the Senate
On the floor of the Senate
(They call it a chamber.)
Justice dies daily
Live on cable TV
And NPR.
Amid the shards of a failed civilization,
Justice fails daily
And yet our love never fails
Because love never fails.
Justice fails daily
And yet our love never fails
Because love never fails.
As justice dies daily
On an empty witness stand
And as we shuffle through the shards of a failed civilization,
I’m so glad
I’m so glad
I’m so glad it’s you who hold my hand.
On an empty witness stand
And as we shuffle through the shards of a failed civilization,
I’m so glad
I’m so glad
I’m so glad it’s you who hold my hand.
Donna Jane Krupkin Whitney, M.D., M.Div is a member of the pastoral staff of Metropolitan Interdenominational Church in Nashville, TN. Metropolitan is a community of believers inclusive of all and alienating to none, leading the way to spiritual growth by sharing God’s love with the world. This year, the author and her classmates celebrate their 50th high school reunion, with gratitude for the sisterhood that has immeasurably informed and sweetened their lives.
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