When She Laughs, by Tawanda Jones

When she laughs it’s like the sound of beautiful musical notes,

Like a thousand splintering sunrays cascading into sparkling pieces around you,

Out of the mouth of babes . . .

But thoughts of a shaky, uncertain future in an increasingly less democratic, more totalitarian society,

Give to the rich, take from the poor, ever increasing oligarchic society,

Has got my throat clogged.

I take temporary solace in a child’s laughter, all the while fearing  that  society will eventually,

Clog her throat?

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