Calling All Poets

WASHINGTON

We walked the streets of Washington today.

I saw a child of no more than 5 years young

sitting on his father's shoulders the way my son sits on his father's shoulders

comfortable in the safe home he has there.

His pale, small hands thoughtlessly curl around the big man's neck,

his thumb and first finger stroke his father's earlobe in a loving gesture

actually unaware of the silent confidence expressed in an ability to protect and preserve.

 He was smiling, looking side to side,  blankly grinning at the stares fixed on him;

he did not notice the terror and tears.

He wore a brilliantly bright, blood red t-shirt,

 a swastika screaming, sitting upon that small chest

on the shirt that his father chose for him.

We saw white people

still hating black people

 brown people

yellow people

still hating

people.

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Hello readers! I hope that you are all enjoying your introduction to Autobiography of a Face. I am finding it to be a pretty quick read, and am really warming up to the story as I go along. I am excited about our discussion topic for Saturday, and am already formulating questions for contemplation in my mind. Please feel free to offer suggestions or contribute questions of your own directly to the site.

I am also working on including a daily poem written by selected skirt! bloggers(like the one above)  to the bookclub homepage. if you write poetry and are interested in putting it out there, send it!

Have a fabulous day!

~Pamela