Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Jeff (Some Version of the Truth)

You were so little
when Aunt Nancy brought you by
the first time,
and I loved to watch you dance
as I huffed and puffed
on the harmonica.

Years later,
when going through photo albums
someone asked of you
“Who’s the Black kid?”

At first, I didn’t see the color,
but eventually
I pieced
some version of the truth together
as I’m sure you must have.

As far as I know,
you’ve never been told
who fathered you,
and maybe your mom
doesn’t know,

and maybe your dad
never knew that
he had a son.

I doubt
knowing the truth
would help now

as you sit in the penitentiary
with your admission of guilt
and life sentence
without chance for parole

for killing your girlfriend’s mother
because you believed
the allegations of her abuse.

I’m sorry you thought
your girlfriend
was telling you the truth

1 comment:

  1. As usual, your poetry knocks the wind out of me.