The Encounter

I’m on a mission, bird-watching,
On a tree or on the wing
Renewed eternally by the Spring
Once again awakening.
Its angelic voice.

Mesmerized by their birdsong
In my mind, I sing along
As they sing their heavenly song
How can anything be wrong?
With this peace.

Her action jars my sensibility
With violent gloved intensity
Threatens my integrity
Flaunting her ability
To ignore the law.

I’m calling the police! She screams
I think this is more than what it seems
Yes, please call them by all means
I’m tired of these silly schemes

Stop!

Her fiery words ignite in me
A hundred years of slavery
When we struggled to be free
Of the white man’s killing spree
My stomach churns.

Using my conscience as my guide
I stand my ground with fearless pride
Despite the deep abiding fear inside
That tells me this could be suicide
No more.

Brian Sankarsingh is an accidental poet who, for many years, was standoffishly embroiled in social and political commentary; and who has now decided to maddeningly scream his message from whatever rooftop he can find. You can reach him at: author@rogers.com. Read other articles by Brian.