We approached March like a lamb in gloves.
Coughs of strangers were not yet met
with wary hunted looks of wounded wolves.

We sat, waiting for the droves
out to vote for changes not set
by the paltry, petty and corrupt-to-the-bone Conservatives.

And, we harbored winks, as alewives
in their MAGA hats shook out their pet
necessities, privilege and immoral objectives.

We said nothing but handed them sheaves
we knew they would blight
and we would later count their motives.

Newly minted voters, it pleased me to serve.
Their earnestness and pride fed
my hope for new energy in diverse reserves.

The last hour, a young man in work clothes and dirty sleeves
stood in front of me and seemed to fear his fate,
so rooted to his purpose and dutiful in motives.
Provisional ballot in hand, he took one step to join the doves.