No matter your political persuasion, I just wanted to remind all of you who have not yet voted that though you may or may not love your choices, they are a gift. A gift that was bought with the spilled blood of American soldiers. Men and women died to protect your right to choose, so…. choose.
I’m not a poet, but if you want insight to what rattles around in my head while cleaning the stock tank close to an election day, here it is:)
by Amanda Hopper
Dear granddaughter, you rush through life
here and there, mother and wife.
The small moments become lost
and you ignore the cost.
All I have is time
In this dark bed of mine,
Remembering my loss,
Under the marble cross.
Your time is precious, you say.
So was mine until that day.
My child, you only have to vote.
Just a dot upon a note.
Bring me peace.
Dear granddaughter, release
Your iron grip on tedious things.
Lessen death’s painful sting
and honor my choice
to protect your voice.