I am the child with skinny legs
and too long bangs who waited
in blue darkness and bare feet
for the sound of your car
keys in the door, footsteps
on linoleum, listened
for stumbles and steadiness
I am the child whose heart
beat with unwritten poems
and scary stories, imagined
wonders and your salvation
puzzled the reasons
for such a lonely country
I am the child who stole
cigarettes from the open packs
of Marlboro Extra Long 100s
you left on the kitchen table
with an empty coffee cup
and can of Bud Light
I am the child who pondered
sadness and anger, remembered
your smile and stories of New York
its energy in your eyes, we raced
along its crowded sidewalks
to Nathan’s Famous Hot Dogs
Just a few more blocks little girl
you always said
I am the child who waited
for draft cards to burn, flags
in flames, brothers to return whole
Finally, I thought I understood
your anguish
I am the child of spacious skies
and specious lies, Bury My Heart
Birmingham, Watts, Selma, Vietnam
I am the child who believed anyway
in radiance, sunrises and cloud paintings
I am the child who still looks
for you after all this time
in our dark American night
.
Roxanne Doty
.
.