Remember Your Neighbor

When you go to the polling place

            And you’ve confirmed your name,

                        Your address,

                                    Your signature.

Remember your neighbor,

            Your neighbor’s child or grandchild that cowers during lockdown drills

                        Hoping to never hear the echoes of gunshots off locker doors

                                    Because the trauma of imagining is more than enough.

Remember your neighbors who have a mixed citizenship status.

            Remember that we took their land.

                        White power is the thief in this story.

Remember your neighbor that just watched their neighbor’s house float by,

            And don’t know if their children are alive,

                        Or how they’re going to get to work

                                    Determination doesn’t matter if rivers wash away roads.

Remember your neighbor that has only ever wanted to be a parent,

            That has been told time and again, “Don’t worry, try again next month,”

                        As they bankrupt themselves emotionally and financially

 to try to build a family.

Remember your neighbors who have families that look different than yours:

        Grandparents caring as guardians for grandchildren,

               Aunts and uncles stepping in,

                     Foster parents forming families

                           All of these working to be the sacred space called home

                                Even when government and social measures offer less support.

Remember your neighbor who is queer or trans,

            Who spends lots of energy trying to both live authentically

                    And stay alive and safe in a world where hate is cool

                         Wondering if they will lose rights and protections in coming years.

Remember your neighbor who has family overseas

            And waits each day for updates when phones can get a signal between bombings

                        “Hello, we’re still here, we love you. Kiss grandma.”

                                    Or silence. Then wails. God help us.

Remember your neighbor.

            And your neighbor’s neighbor.

                        For God’s sake and for all of our sake, remember your neighbor.