And I'm Done

By: Dena Jennings

Done tip-toeing,

Done bowing,

Done living an apology

For things done to my generation

For the wisdom borne of our experiences

That makes a new generation cringe

And bend with the latest wind of -ism

For which we are deemed the harbinger.

Toughen up, young ones.

Your noose of deaf zeal is

As tight as the stem of strange fruit

As damning as the rod spared

As stifling as the bleached white hood of night

Without lifting a fist, but a pen

Without wielding a knife, but words

Cutting to the deepest marrow just the same

You see, my sixth decade comes in like a lioness

Done with this hunt until the next,

Dividing the truth for the survival of the pride,

Hungry to be heard though ready to distribute

Each portion of the bounty gleaned

To the weak and the young that bite as they yelp—

Not yet as old as my oldest scar

Unwilling listen until I am done.                 

© Dena Jennings 2019