Concrete Lily
I ‘m stuck here were sometimes the sun never shines and my only relief is a drop of
rain from time to time, I fear someone may step on me and crush me into the
ground…my pedals tremble as people pass me by. I return every year around the
same time every year, only to witness man’s inhumanity to his fellow man. Yet I hear
them proclaim he is my brother and then the next day spread his brains across the
concrete and stones with a single shot from a single handgun. As mother leaned over
his lifeless body with tears of dreams that now are deferred falling down her face,
her once lovely smile replace the face of a man whom had been lost for nearly fifteen
if not longer. It was her last time to say good bye to her only son. But for some
reason she just started looking at me…her eyes all glazed and empty. As the police
pulled her off her son put him in the ambulance… as she scream at the fireman and
the cops who held her back from being able to get one last farewell or a single last
embrace. I didn’t cry, but a single drop of water did fall off my pedal as they covered
his face. This place that I’m in, I once heard someone say, “This is ghetto you better
get use to this place.” how can people live in this place? I then fell a tug at the base
of my stem…as his mother pluck me and later place me on his grave. As she laid me
there on his casket and said, “A lily for my baby, a sign of continued life in uncertain
place.”
Copyright © Jay Anderson-Taylor | Year Posted 2010
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