for Kathleen<\/i><\/p>\n
On a day in this post-9\/11 nation,
\nwhere our cars are protected
\nby sensors and cameras
\nand black glass that keeps us safe<\/p>\n
from the sun and each other,
\nmy daughter-in-law drove me
\nand her kids down the main street
\nof Felton, California, in an SUV
\nthat wore brand new, long<\/p>\n
eyelashes over its headlights.
\nThe tinted glass of parked vans
\nrefused our reflection. A pickup
\nwith window guards, and cars<\/p>\n
with squinting, watchful headlights
\npassed by before we turned
\ninto the parking lot of the school.
\nBut on this day of the eyelashes,
\nwhich transformed her SUV<\/p>\n
into a human face, the face
\nof a woman, mothers we didn’t
\nrecognize honked their horns,
\nputting up their thumbs,<\/p>\n
and when the black glass
\nof the SUV’s and the mini-vans
\nopened, other moms came out
\nwith their kids to gather around us
\nin intimacy and wonder. “I love<\/p>\n
the lashes,” one woman said,
\nclutching her heart and laughing.
\n“Where can we get a pair?”
\nsomebody else wanted to know,<\/p>\n
the start of a small revolution
\nto free us from the protections
\nof Homeland America.<\/p>\n\n
Follow McNair\\’s thinking about this poem through his revisions of it. (Line changes are highlighted in yellow; revised line breaks are indicated by yellow verticals.)<\/span><\/p> <\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\t\t