My Kind of American
My kind of American loves lilacs
and the sound of children’s laughter
and putting her feet up after a hard day
and pouring themself a glass of sweet tea
under the shade of an oak that stands near a picnic table in the park
where a passel of neighbors is celebrating the coolest day in months.
My kind of American loves the idea that pedestrians
are worthy of respect and wide berth
and that cyclists deserve a lane of their own,
that as bipeds, we can create communities that help us
get where we need without impediments of time or trouble.
My kind of American knows the difference between enough and too much
and doesn’t mind shouldering the burden of those less able.
My kind of American supports libraries and the commons
and farmer’s markets and affordable housing and all kinds of families.
My kind of American cares about what people have in common
more than what they don’t
and is more interested in asking questions out of curiosity and respect
than spouting answers out of judgment and fear.
My kind of American remembers that humans all over the world
wake to the sun with prayers for health and safety and food.
My kind of American dreams that it be so.
