Michael

August 18. 2014.

There is a brokenness
a broken nest
a race against
time,
as time tells
that race is still a dividing line
coloring decisions
made at the trigger.

dividing a man’s life
from his body

a man’s breath
from his body

a man’s speech
from his body

but the heart
of the matter
still beats
a drum
of the body’s sorrow.

the body’s anticipated
change of direction
the week after.

“As his mother, what do you want to say to the nation.”

. . .

“Our son was special. He was special.
He was the first
for so many.
the first child
the first grandchild
the first nephew.
He was basically
born a king.”

College-bound
he was.
A source of pride,
yes,
but the media distorts the message
as if any mother
whose son was unsparingly brought to a same fate
would not grieve
as deep.

As if
it would not mean
as much.

Because taking one
college-bound son
means a stolen success,
and if you educate yourself
a different way
it’s somehow
less.

“Michael Brown’s family is calling for justice and peace.”

“The violence needs to stop.
The support is needed,
but not the violence.”

But another’s truth speaks:
“I think violence sometimes can be contagious.”

and so
I try to hold my heart
against
the cold that’s catching
again in this nation.

catching up
with our young folk
before they’re old.

leaving them.

stopped.

before their tracks are cold.