those first winter mornings
As you stepped out into the
Each day was like a fresh
And each day you asked yourself,
How well I speak and walk and work
Who I am, who I am perceived to be
Could truly make or break me
This is what you still think about
Even generations after you have learned
To ignore those who question
that the hateful language you hear
does not represent the true spirit of home
that when someone is cruel
you don't stoop to their level
instead you try to find dignity and power
we go high and rise, and rise, and rise
It seems so long ago now,
but you will never forget the morning
when you stepped out, lifted your chin,
mistook the buds of the magnolias
for hundreds of sleeping doves,
their heads tucked into folded wings.
Those others who were waiting,
who would at any moment awaken and take