An imaginary place in thin, dry air between the mountains and the dusty plains
Got my ballot gonna mail it in
Or drop it off because I can
Because I’m free and it’s my right
And duty to put up a fight
When fools and bigots try to run
This, my country, with their guns
And lies and hate and broken laws
But truth and justice is our cause.
Hope is packing up
our privilege and masks
and bicycles and hiking boots
and driving west
to explore the future.
It is trekking higher in thin air,
trusting our hearts and lungs,
daring to imagine a bright new chapter
that begins around the next bend
in the dusty trail.
Read more Raw verse.
Words hover out of reach
The Smith Compound 