So today is the day, the swearing in. To swear: to vow, pledge, promise, affirm, to insist, to undertake. Or, of course, to curse, blaspheme, cuss, make profane. Sadly, as Governor Nikki Haley takes her oath of office by the State House’s cold gray steps, in cold gray weather, where the neaby Confederate flag barely flutters in the one-mile-per-hour wind, the swearing feels more like the latter, the blaspheme, than the affirmation.
“We don’t have time” to mark the occasion with poetry, as governors and presidents and prime ministers and popes have made time for through the ages. “The schedule is too tight” to read the stirring verses scribed by our scribe in chief, poet laureatess Marjory Wentworth, says Haley’s team.
My friends and fellow citizens, here is what we don’t have time for under this 96th gubernatorial reign:
That’s a start, at least. But hey, since I’ve got time in this here blog, let me leave you with this last suggestion. In the words of my friend and teacher Marjory Wentworth, let’s make time to come:
"from the edge of the wilderness to name
the harm that has been done, to make it
plain, and enter the river and rise."