Love Letters

I walked with a crowd churning forward clatter,

Who’ve been screaming out ‘black lives matter’,

The group I joined had sussed me with banter,

Obliging me to show cause for now I am a ranter.

Who is my enemy? I asked the girl next to me,

She said those blinded by colour, unable to see,

Theirs a complicit silence, obviously anti-black,

And though she is white she’s not going back.

And from where did she leave? I asked politely,

Her father was abusive, she said rather lightly,

And it matters here when enemies are about,

I think about the discord impelling us to shout.

I share with her that my father is an alcoholic,

I could do it here, in this atmosphere symbolic,

In an environment that’s addressing the pain,

Safe and inclusive, for our world to be sane.

We marched, shouting death to old white men,

Death to white racists, and it’s a matter of when,

Until the riot police broke up our righteous cause,

But we laughed, and said it was merely a pause.

The angry girl and I exchanged our twitter names,

Our protection in times when suspicion reigns,

We’ll do coffee, maybe understand ourselves better,

Find tradition, and write ourselves a love letter.