by Royal Rhodes
Trump’s promise of mass deportation throws undocumented Texans into fear, uncertainty. —Texas Public Radio, December 19, 2024
Was I asleep and missed the sudden Rapture
that took the nameless with familiar faces?
Where did they go, with all the little ones?
The guy who cut the hair of homeless Vets,
the smiling pizza boy, and couriers?
Our well-trimmed gardens are now overgrown.
Produce at the market costs much more—
no strawberries for even ready money.
And who will take our dogs for daily walks?
These days of absence seem so rude at best.
Are we supposed to give Grandma a bath?
She knew the helper more than she knows us.
Are they on retreat deep in the desert
in prayer and fasting from all food and water?
In church they took with us the bread and wine,
but sat apart or stood beside the door.
Have angels raised them up to Paradise?
Was it the Rapture or some plotted rupture?
Royal Rhodes is a poet whose poems have appeared in numerous literary journals, including several times in The New Verse News.
