The River in the Morning
by Amanda Oakes
Found on The Rising Phoenix Review
hugs the sun, burns off her fog
in one breath, asks how she got
so wide overnight, remembers
all the fish, remembers
how they said that the ocean
refuses no river but she knows
better now, knows that she cried
herself into existence, she self-made,
not born from bog or lake or spring
but came down from mountain top,
she says, fuck that ‘seven morning rituals
that will change your life’ shit, all that tea
& meditation used to cloud up her rill,
she a Gully God now, she want sturdy
& steadfast, she not soft but solid,
kissed the sky & brought the sun down
with her to the ground, her waters deep,
all sizzle & sear, she built the bridge, she says—
cross it if you dare.
With the Million Women March all over my Facebook, stumbling across this poem felt way too appropriate.
All the news about the ACA being repealed is making me legitimately fear for my life. I have insurance through my job, but who knows if they'll decide to throw me off for my pre-existing condition once they're no longer required to cover it? I've never been particularly proud to be an American. But these days, I am particularly ashamed to be one.