A poem for Americans
(written the day before they voted Trump out)
Americans, when next you meet on your battleground,
It will not be to resurrect the dead:
Those who fell unmasked of knowledge & precaution,
Turned distant by the commander on high
But not the invisible enemy stalking,
Freely and contemptuous of rife ignorance of perils,
No, they will not rise again. Adieu.
Meet instead to return your Nation
To Reason, to Humanity and Care,
To the Spirit of Gettysburg, Iwo Jima
And Belleau Wood,
That those who died "shall not have died in vain"
And that in numbers you do not vote in vain hope
But in sure and steely resolve to Reconstruct
Your common life and lately ill Republic,
When next you meet on your battleground.
Sanjib Basu 