Skin Color Is a Thing
Until I got to college I had never heard the term black or white.
Because I was not listening possibly, or more so that I never thought about it.
Some people did not have freckles, I was envious of that.
Some had curly hair. I was envious of that too.
Some had height. I still dream of height; I think I always will.
But skin color being a thing? This was a concept I had never thought of.
I grew up with a white father whose best friend was Quig Kelley, a black man.
We never thought of Quig as black; we thought of Quig as Quig.
Quig had a loud laugh, and he and my dad liked to laugh a lot!
If you would have told me Quig was a black man I would have laughed.
Skin color was not a thing in my world.
I was raised knowing that we are all God’s children.
We are all humans.
I did know that I was different than others. I felt paisley in a plaid world.
I felt that I must have been adopted; I kept waiting to be told this was true.
Because I did not fit in with anybody I knew.
I did not have the same religion as my parents.
I instantly knew what I instantly knew; and spirituality was my path.
I believed in the ba and the ka without question when I studied Old Egyptian religion.
I believed that we can communicate with the afterworld
because I always have.
Skin color being a big thing?
I throw my head back and laugh like Quig and Daddy.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment