I read Robert Hayden’s “Ice Storm” in wonder. How much can be said in 62 words.
The poem describes trees — bound in ice, battered, bent and broken — and dissolves into a prayer:
The trees themselves, as in winters past,
will survive their burdening,
broken thrive. And am I less to You,
my God, than they?
The poem was written in the days when corrupt governments brutalized and intimidated law-abiding citizens who were African American.
The poem was read (by me) during the big ice storm, when a corrupt government was brutalizing and intimidating law-abiding citizens in Minnesota.
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