the silence of the line

It came from two stories up wearing cartooned pajama bottoms —

A “holy crap” that broke the silence of the line now a couple of blocks long and winding it’s way down Oak Grove just 24 minutes after the polls opened.

My Dunn Bros. is still steaming, the morning is shut-up-and-kiss-me gorgeous, and I’m idling about a block away from my destination feeling slightly — well —


Oh, it’s not the election —

Or the end of the campaign —

Or the expected outcome —

Trust me.

It’s this line.

Barely moving on the surface — alive and crawling with as many ideals and statements and dreams as there are arms and legs —

A breathing mosaic of energy and color that opens every last hatch in my house and pulls me outside — and into it —

With not a word —

Not an invitation —

Or an intention —

But a flow unto itself. 

I am here.  And this is now.

And that’s enough. 

*********8:41 a.m. Voter #259 MINNEAPOLIS W-7 P-05

Author: Julie Ann Stevens

My art flows from the patterns & paths of my lived experience which ⏤ like yours ⏤ are at once deeply personal and entirely universal.

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