It hurts to be silent—
the unsaid words
sharp as frazil ice—
needle shaped and
able to slice what
inside is tender.
Still, we found ways
to be silent.
I give thanks
for the chill
that woke up
the millions of women
around the world,
got us moving
in one direction.
I give thanks
for the diversity
of messages
that inspire us
to be not one voice
but millions
together.
As we march,
I think of the fish,
how they move as one,
sometimes daily,
sometimes annually.
They know
when to stay,
when to move,
when to give it
everything they’ve got.