wet forest moon folklorist on Nostr: my memory of the day will be of bike bells, sun glints on the river, the bright ...

my memory of the day will be of bike bells, sun glints on the river, the bright colors of the labor tees and banners, the old man with a megaphone and union patches on his old jacket standing on the sidewalk as the marchers passed, referencing his binder of protest chants to keep the crowd loud and bright with shared voice. and then the big booms and the pouring gas, the fear and sorrow on peoples faces. the families hurrying away from fumes, the street medics running toward them