For Good

I can’t write this later.

I won’t wait until the horror is diluted 

by the next inevitable atrocity. 

Someone wrote, 

“Her cries on the sidewalk have altered me”

Another said their young son needed them in the middle of the night. 

They imagined Good’s 6 year old boy needing his mom.   

I closed my classroom door today to cry in silence before my kids came back. 

Miles woke up in a night terror last night, too.

I slept in his bed so he could feel safe.  

We are not safe. 

But. We are needed.  

Some outside the US are wondering how we’re going about our daily lives. 

I’ll tell you what we should not do. 

We should not assume it’s simple. 

***           

What we will do:

We show her little boy that we are here for him. 

We will not let it swallow us.

We will let the suffocating sadness shift to rage.  

We will let the rage fuel us for Good.       

And we will teach our collective cubs to fucking roar.