someone’s brother, someone’s son

an hour after the sun comes up
I’m outside
sippin’ coffee from my favourite cup
a majestic hawk
soars above my head
I embrace a wonder that replaces my dread

in this space I don’t have to think
of my brother or my nephews
who are always on the brink
of being mistaken
for a “criminal” someone
who can be slain by a “concerned citizen’s” gun

I live with the constant fear
of receiving news
too many others have had to hear
cops with no integrity
a vigilante with a gun
blood on the sidewalk from a brother or a son

in my garden I prefer to stay
out here I can keep
terrible thoughts at bay
watching a lone seagull swoop & dive
praying my brother, my nephews
& all black men will survive

copyright © 2020 KPM

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