Republicans Out of Power
The icy winter wind, howling, howling
Is Republicans out of power
How hard it blows!
’Til trees sway and groan
It strips their leaves
And whips them into frenzied whirling piles
With no real direction, full of angry rustle and rattle.
There is less light now, less hope, more noise
I pray for an early spring
Where new life is so apparent
That winter wind will be silenced
Or, better still, forced to find a voice
That builds instead of destroys.