Two Nights

The lockdown of 2020 has brought many opportunities for different walks with my daughter. Brisk strolls on sunny, breezy days contrast those with cold and drizzle. We walked before the trees began to flower, and we are still walking now that all has bloomed. I suspect this will still be part of our routine well into the summer. But something about these two nights below will be imprinted upon my heart forever.

An April Walk chronicles a simple, yet special evening. It’s always interesting to hear how your young adult remembers their childhood, especially as it took place in a foreign land. So grateful for my life experiences, I rushed home immediately that night to scribble down this poem, but I hesitated for the past few months to share it as something seemed incomplete. Until last night.

When I wrote its counterpart, A Walk in June, I felt the first poem to finally be complete. Last night’s march was one of beauty, pain, and complexity. There was sadness and fear in the air, but there was also community and solidarity. I have much to learn about how to be an antiracist and much to learn by listening. Real life is the first poem, just like real life is the second.

These two nights were both special and unforgettable.

An April Walk

April 20, 2020

I’ve walked this walk a thousand times

But not like tonight.

With no where to go

With nothing to do

But be with you.

You talked, I laughed.

I talked, you laughed.

We looked back to an ocean away.

That time I moved you overseas. You were the first American at your school. You were so little, so helpless. I threw you to the wolves. But you ran with them.

You did not know you were alone; all small and tough. You thought it normal to have metal fences around your school, needles on the walk home, burnt mattress in the alley, graffiti, (black spray paint saying “fishy”) on the backside of your house.

That was your childhood among the swans.

We walked; you talked.

We walked; I remembered.

No where to be but here

With you, my lovely little dear.

A Walk in June

Photo taken from the Hawthorne Bridge, Portland on June 5, 2020.

I’ve never walked like this before

On a night like this

With you by my side.

Masked for protection, carrying your sign that read

“Black Lives Matter.”

You really wanted to go, but I hesitated for fear of the virus.

This was the first time I chanted a dead black girl’s name aloud with you.

I hope it is the last.

“Say her name! Breonna Taylor!”

Today would have been her 27th birthday.

So different from those walks in lockdown we have taken together.

With you by my side,

We were the only people that could be seen for blocks.

But tonight we walked with thousands.

I learned that George Floyd was as old as I - born in 1974, died in 2020.

We walked; you chanted.

We walked; I lamented.

No where to be but here,

With you, my lovely little dear.