a revolution

I never knew that fire could


so bright

flying flames in Baltimore


and all the while

the black man

died in the street

where the parade

traveled last july.

I never knew

that my anger could run

so cold

ice trapped underneath

the tapestries and

tattered days of

old lang sine

how could we know the


baby bright with expectant


how could we know that

our words and hearts

would feed the


Black Lives Matter

Photo by miram Oh on Unsplash

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