bliggity blog

Saturday, 9 July 2016

Philando Castile








When I was a girl

it was said that I was like my father

 ~

So, I am wondering if a four year old girl

is like her daddy....

if  the smell of Old Spice will always make her think of him getting out of the shower 


if they were laughing in the car just before they got pulled over

Did she feel the warmth leave him

When the shock of the bullets lifted his body up off the seat

in front of her


Does she understand that she will never again feel his hand in hers

never see the twinkle in his eye when he pulls the quilts up over her in the night

Never know his wit


How do we stop from weeping for this child

who will grow like a bird that can never fly

How do we stop killing each other











https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/

2 comments:

  1. Hi Kara, such a powerful poem and so very sad.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Wow, this is a powerful use of the Wordle, and a shocking event.

    ReplyDelete

Deep peace of the running wave to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
Deep peace of the gentle night to you.
Moon and stars pour their healing light on you

peace blogger

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