November 4, 2008
They stood there in line with me,
listened intently to conversations
around us, the giggles and whispers,
stifling their joy as they have for years,
decades, centuries—the absentee voters.
And when we entered the voting booth,
I heard their weeping. Their hands on mine
darkening the circle on the paper ballot,
our grip on the pencil tight enough to break,
the weight of us overflowing.
(The last line is taken from the first line of Philip Schultz’s poem “The Amount of Us.” )