Cleveland Ave
Location
Cleveland Ave
It’s not that I had never seen her before,
I’d seen her many times, no doubt.
Always looking tired, but strong
As the bus ran its afternoon route.
Indeed I had noticed her hands,
Skin worn with work, a warm shade of brown.
Perhaps a seamstress, I was thinking
She looked up and I looked down.
What she was really like, her dreams and passions,
I’ll never have the privilege to know.
Of course, it’s my fault,
Though society blames Jim Crow.
That day, a man boarded the bus,
Exercising the power of his race
Expecting her to move
As such was the requirement of her place.
I had never seen it before,
The sirens made their way from downtown.
I smiled to myself, applauding her victory.
She had won by simply staying down.