Site C

Approve this: enough
water to fish, to hold
up promises. Approve
a ledge to shelve this
crime, and cry to bed
the glut, excess. Wild
spaces can regrow, if
you all sleep yourself
through. We steward
lands, steer this ship
true. Lay down arms
against reason, rights
and freedom. Else all
our bones will die on
cash-lined coffin. We
need earth, need light
hearts to stand against
this treason—we will
not let silver tongues,
or gold bear us down.
The season is ours—
it’s time for bodies
to breathe.

 

 

Jesse Holth writes and edits in beautiful Victoria, BC. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in over a dozen international publications, including Mantra Review, Canada Quarterly, Marathon Literary Review, Eastern Iowa Review, and others. She serves as Assistant Poetry Editor for The Tishman Review, and is currently working on two full-length collections.

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