by Marge Piercy
The cat washes herself in a square
of sun. A catbird taunts from the lilac
outside. The cat stares, turns her
back. She finds peace in ignoring
the loud bird. The younger cat
jumps up on the ledge, hurls
himself against the window.
Ouch. And the bird still taunts.
I wish I could so easily ignore
constant bad news. How much
more soundly I would sleep. I’ve
marched hundreds of times, I sign
petitions sent into limbo. I’m
no longer young but I still insist
on trying to save what I can.
Giving up is a kind of death.
If we don’t push hard, nothing
will ever change, so I push on.
— from Juniper Volume 3, Issue 3