“No refuge could save the hireling and slave

From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave,”

It’s hard to hear

The susurration

Of storm flags

Battered by a breeze

In a land under siege

Drowned out by the barrage

Of bombs bursting

It’s hard to hear

The susurration

From freak flags flying

In the dawn’s early light

Blocking out

An unsightly piece of

His story

Songs of the  black man’s plight

Lost in the fog of

Of Pat-RIOT-tism

Now in rage of racial reckoning

It’s hard to hear

The susurration of

White noise carrying

Monochromatic tones

Of supremacy

Land of the brave

Home of the slave

Owners

Where black is the Bull's

Eye for brutality

It’s hard to hear

The susurration

Of names trending

On twitter

Shuffling against the

Apotheosis of apathy

Of All Lives Matter

Their thoughtless prayers

Never sent to heaven

It’s hard to hear

The susurration of

Names worn on  T-shirts

And worn out bodies

Walking memorials

Marching in protest for those

Bodies piling in numbers

Buried in statistics

It’s hard to hear

The susurration of

“I can’t breathe”

“Please don’t kill me”

“Mama”

Voices usually lost to a jury

Sorrow

Full of justice

Delayed

Always with the promise of action

UPDATE:  On April 20, 2021 the jury finally heard and the promise

of action was finally served!

Rest in Power, George Floyd

#susurration