Hers a passable understanding
of impossibility capable of finding
reality amid the strands
of pessimism tangled round
but optimism seemed to derail
her train always moving steadily
stealthily down the tracks

every morning more homicides
in the city where she was born
and never mind Chicago 35-40
a night and all of it invisible
just a sound bite on morning news
to make/ it keep it plausible
enough to make her mute
the set to keep the brutality
inaudible although her eyes
strayed mentally steadying

her laden box cars beginning
to wobble sway with momentum
tangible in her legs fingertips
pessimism creeping back in
as she reckoned with how
it seemed so unchangeable
the Mayor being inaugurated
and Mothers against Violence
meeting and tomorrow more of the same
statistics bombarding the air/waves

leaving her to re-examine
what’s really doable her tiny
patch of reclaimed ground
scrounged from abandoned
pastures now replete
with surprise lilies goldfinches
riding the first sunflowers
newly unfurled goldenrod
where nothing gets killed
spiders rescued like cats
tossed from trucks into fields

change relative and hope
a caboose a pusher engine
at the end of the train rocking
along in its almost inevitability.