Monday, February 03, 2014

"Imagine a blonde daughter with a busted car..."

by Kamilah Aisha Moon

after the news of the dead whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you 
--W. S. Merwin

A blanket of fresh snow 
makes any neighborhood idyllic. 
Dearborn Heights indistinguishable from Baldwin Hills, 
South Central even-- 
until a thawing happens and residents emerge 
into the light. But it almost never snows in L.A., 
and snows often in this part of Michigan-- 
a declining wonderland, a place not to stand out 
or be stranded like Renisha was. 

Imagine a blonde daughter with a busted car 
in a suburb where a brown homeowner 
(not taking any chances) 
blasts through a locked door first, 
checks things out after-- 
around the clock coverage and the country beside itself 
instead of the way it is now, 
so quiet like a snowy night 
and only the grief of a brown family (again) 
around the Christmas tree, recalling 
memories of Renisha playing 
on the front porch, or catching flakes 
as they fall and disappear 
on her tongue. 

They are left to imagine 
what her life might have been. 
We are left to imagine the day 
it won't require imagination 
to care about all of the others.  
Copyright © 2014 by Kamilah Aisha Moon.  
Kamilah Aisha Moon is the author of She Has a Name (Four Way Books, 2013). She lives in Brooklyn, New York.

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