This Line of Walkers

This Line of Walkers

(from Oak Ridge, Tennessee to the UN in New York City toward renewal of Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty, March 12 - May 1, 2005)

Who will recall this line of walkers

that wound like a mardi gras serpent

up route fifteen one Spring

bearing banners that snapped

truths in the breeze, strolling to cadence

of drumbeats and Buddhists’ chanted prayers?

Like nervous and curious horses

that hurried and leaned to look

over fences, a flood of truckers

and commuters tapped their brakes briefly,

leaning over their dashboards, stunned

at the nerve of this tiny processional.

Wavers and honkers, beepers or bleepers

made their offerings of digital signs–

thumbs up, thumbs down, middle fingers up–

hurling "Peace, baby!" or "Get a job, this is America!"

while others gripped steering wheels

with their gaze fixed rigidly ahead

as if to fight off the peace that was given.

I bent over a chickadee smacked by a car,

picked up the handful of feathers, stepping

out of line to pray for the life that was

and place it in tall grass beside the long road.

A small parade on a large journey, we strode,

slow yet steady against the rushing current

of traffic, time, and lesser pursuits.