She brought her flower to the edge of time,
An offering for peace upon the earth;
The list of millions guilty of some crime
She secreted, back pocket, sizing worth
Of all who came before as coming short.
She with her better knowledge, looking down,
As though a savior, did herself comport,
To all the millions who were not around.
And lo: the world was barren through her lens.
And she, the righteous, other’s words in hand,
Marched confident, with fire in her pens,
Out at the edge of time. The promised land
She saw before her eyes – the wasteland large –
That would be heaven if she was in charge
To share is human:
