It is April 1, 2012. I am supposed to write a poem. I can’t find poetry right now.
Poetry can’t find me either. I see your face and it is the face of every brown girl I’ve ever known and been. That smile so like a hug, ready to embrace a world you had yet to see. Ready for your welcome. Ready for those first tentative steps into baby woman.
Rekia. Your name is the poem. Your breath was the poem. And the dances you will never do, the laughter you won’t feel tickling your belly, the arguments you won’t have with your brothers, the first love–everything that was stolen–all that beauty and obstacle and all those victories your family will never cheer, those make up the poem too.
Understand. I can’t fit this pain into stanza or verse. Baby, you could have been me, my niece, sister, best friend, cousin, daughter
and the line breaks here, Rekia
here the line
falls down our cheeks
How our hopes
This is a petition started by Rekia Boyd’s brother: http://www.rightsforrekia.com
Please sign and share. I am calling on my circle of mothers to help stop these injustices. I did not think that The Sage Mama was going to become a space for (outright) activism, but the times necessitate it.These are difficult times, Mamas. We have to pull together.