in my dreams
i think of something green
something 73 degrees
covered in trees;
and i see
white robes
colored skin
men and women
all different languages.

but i don't see
your flag
or your ballot;
i don't see
the words you shared
pastored over peoples
whipped into their ears
with a silver tongue
served on a silver spoon-
i don't see a wolf's wisdom bloom.

all i see
are crooked teeth
swollen eyes
cut up elbows
calloused palm lines
colored skin
men and women
all different languages.
they aren't scribes
and they aren't wise
but they are desperate
to have brand new eyes
to look upon your glory
and to see your radiant mercies.