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      January 19, 2017Poem for My Daughter Before the MarchAbby E. Murray

      When your father says
      he doesn’t want me to march
      what he really means is
      he doesn’t want you to march.
       
      He doesn’t want me to march
      because you will follow.
      He doesn’t want you to march
      by default, on my shoulders,
       
      because you might follow
      the songs of women
      by default, on my shoulders,
      raised on bread and justice.
       
      Daughter, the songs of women
      are the first words of children
      raised on bread and justice.
      Blessed are the ones who sing
       
      the first words of children:
      this is how I love you.
      Blessed are the ones who say
      they follow songs into the street.

      from Poets Respond

      Abby E. Murray

      “I’m marching in Seattle this weekend in solidarity with those who have been openly threatened by the incoming administration. At first, I planned not to bring my daughter; she’s three and won’t understand; she’s potty-training; she’s innocent—all the reasons. Then, when I realized I had no one to stay with her because her father will be overseas and all the people I trust are also marching, I knew she’d be part of the march as well. I am nervous and a little proud. The structure of a pantoum made me feel more secure.”

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