Protest

There is a ripple felt

Across and through the bodies marching

A chant that starts in the belly of one

And ends on the lips of hundreds of others

An unspoken understanding

Nods and sideways glances

Hear the message break a voice box

Only to be carried by another

Voices crack and rhythm builds

And still we play at pass the parcel

The voice of this crowd is a gift

And that gift is its hope and its power