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In Ferguson, Missouri

I stand on the corner of Canfield and Clarion.

I search for a familiar car to drive me away.
It is cold, but there is no car in sight,
And the wind cuts deep into my soul.

 

This place is unsettling;
The truth upsets me.
But there is still no car in sight,
And the wind cuts deep into my soul.

 

I came to remember things past,
And people lost.
But there is no car in sight,
And the wind cuts deep into my soul.

 

A middle-aged black man pulls
His black boy by the hand;
His wide eyes stare quizzically up at me.
I look, and there is no car in sight.
And the wind cuts deep into my soul.

 

I look to my right;
I see a concrete staircase;
It descends into darkness,
There is no wind down there.
I do not know what is in there,
But there is no wind down there.
The shelter would protect me from this wind;
This:
    Fede iska
    Ukombozi upepo

 

I stand strong instead,
Remembering things past,
People lost.
There is no car in sight,
But I see a river in the distance.






Join the Discussion

This article has 3 comments. Post your own now!

Yofidhd said...
Mar. 16 at 11:04 am
Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
 
EvalynnHeatherThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Mar. 16 at 9:33 am
I love the repetition of the "There is no car in sight,/ And the wind cuts deep into my soul." Excellent poem!
 
nickmcollins1 replied...
Mar. 17 at 11:42 am
Thank you!
 
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