I grieve for a family
that has not yet seen justice
from the moment a handgunned farmer
pulled the trigger and killed their son.
(why does a farmer need such a gun?)
who saw the police
arrive at her house as though on a raid
and treat her like a criminal
and not like the victim she really was.
with empty arms
who think of their loss
at the hands of such others.
and the lack of the answers
that haunt them still.
who now see no hope,
and whose hunger for justice
gives rise to an anger
that more and more turns
from a dangling rope
to a violence directed at them.
I grieve for the children
whose lives have embraced
an unwanted, dangerous, jeopardy.
who’ve seen this before.
And whose wisdom will not be enough
to get all of us through this evenly.
I may grieve for some time to come.
But then to be true…
we have all been in grieving a very long time.
So long, it is part of our DNA
No matter how hard we might try
we can’t “just get over it and move on”.
We all can easily say:
“My country won’t let me.”