By Deborah Mortimer.
Written in 2020 in response to the George Floyd killing.
They tried,
But the tree branch wasn’t high enough,
And the rope was just too weak
Still they tried
And strung us up
Yet we refused to succumb
To the yank
To the hold
To the gun
To the knee
That attempted to rob us of our breath.
They tried...
With our hands
Shackled,
Chained,
Handcuffed,
or tied.
They tried...
To lift us from the ground
With feet grasping for the earth,
Or push us down
With arms grasping for the sky
As we called out for the Ancestors or...
...Our Mama
They tried...
But they didn’t know that once our feet were lifted, we could and would just fly away
Or
Once pressed in the ground, we would merely become one with the land,
Changing its make up,
Scorching the roots for a rebirth
So that new seeds can be planted and grown.
And they’ll try again...
But the tree sprung from this new earth will be too tall to reach,
And the rope much too hard to bend.