The Short Sell (a poem)

I heard it again this week.
More than once.

The suggestion that
we can’t have a day
for women,
a week for Pride,
a Black History Month,
because then people
will have an excuse
not to care the rest
of the time.

Like justice is a bargain,
a gamble, even,
and celebration
is a poker chip
we’re not brave
enough to ante
up.

Every time I hear it,
I want to say
what if we just
expected both?
What if we didn’t
sell ourselves
so embarrassingly
short?

What if we agreed
right now
that there is no
limit to our potential
for justice,
and no celebration,
or recognition,
or forward progression
that takes us backward?

After all,
God created us
for good.
It’s just easy to forget
if we always
settle for
good enough.

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One thought on “The Short Sell (a poem)

  1. Pingback: All The Poems I Wrote in Lent | Reverend Fem

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