First
of the New Year 2017
Dear Cassi,
Two thousand seventeen was born with
the sound of thunder that shook the windows and set off car alarms. I was on
duty when it happened and the roar of human jubilations was lost on me as I sat
in silence for nearly twenty minutes letting the blasting play itself out.
The air is still burnt nearly twenty
four hours later and smoke from the fire that scorched the night still lingers
as a ghost. Every now and then the pop of a firework serves as the moan of this
spirit of jubilation. As for me I don’t understand.
The world has moved on from the hard
parts of life and the homeless still clog the streets in tent settlements like
clumps of leaves in the rain gutters. The world still burns under the human
touch and we have come no closer to changing things. Still we fill the night with jubilation as if
the world’s problems have been made nothing.
Perhaps I am a pessimist and all this
should be stricken from my mind, but to me the future looks dark and that
orange thing who will soon lead the world is making me feel sick and worried.
I don’t know what the future holds
for me, but I do know that I will meet it as best I can. My life has been a
fight and it looks like a fight one can never win, but so long as there is life
there is that fight to keep me.
Stay safe, little sister,
Richard Leland Neal
