the warmest night of November

 
Editor’s note:  I wrote this on the night that Barack Obama became the first African-American president.  I along with countless others, wept at the promise of the degradation of racism in America. The promise, somewhat tarnished and sullied even by the boundless harassment of the man seated in the nation’s highest office, remains still.  We salute his proud service and contribution.  He has made us proud!
 
 
 
 

on the warmest night

in November
when thousands
lined the streets
amidst turmoil,
angst and fear
 
the cheering and tears
were deafening
as was the
heaviness
and waiting
from untold millions
 
lost in the Atlantic
 
shot on the run
 
hung for no better reason
than an untoward glance
 
killed in a street fight
for dignity
that nobody won
 
worked to death in an
Alabama cotton field
Texas chain gang
Gary Iron Melt
Pontiac assembly line
 
Chasing a Newark dragon
plunging in and out
thinking Lord, how long?
 
peering heaven’s balcony
dabbing tears
 
our undaunted noble warrior
the anticipated herald
our voice, our sage
free world leader
 
constrained world leader
held by threads of contempt
prejudice
dauntless, nonetheless
bolstered by national prayer
our hero
graceful to the end
Barack Obama
 
 

Readers Comments (1)

  1. Sandra Emmanuel July 30, 2016 @ 9:21 pm

    Well said. Thank you for sharing and giving voice to what some of us felt unable to articulate. Yes!

    Reply

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