Coated

Blackbirds coat the bare branches

like leaves.

Their smooth feathers reflect the fresh fallen snow

while the workers trudge to their places,

shaded from the dawn.

Black boots crunching,

Sending the flock up,

Scattered.

Disarrayed.

They congregate once again,

with the pointing of a wing.

Swooping closely to the freshly fallen snow,

but never touching.

Never making a sound.

The workers walk in the light,

to mop floors with their blood.

Backs broken,

held straight with vigor and promise

for change that is to come.

In memoriam of Bloody Sunday Selma, Alabama 7/3/1965

(Photograph and Poem by Marcelle McIntosh)

by Fallujah.