Ragged Grace

The time of ragged
grace - for some - 
is ending
and like a tired two year old
I sob “No, no,NO!”
to the bullies
drunk on power. 

I have been, and am
complicit,
seeking my small
power
to wrap myself
in imagined
safety. 

This is a koan 
I will not dance to,
but stumble through,
seeking …
joining others
I have pitied. 
I don’t want to write this poem.