Jane's poem of yesterday -

This poem deserves bigger letters, and I forgot "rich text."  I present it again.

White History

When I was three I stopped talking.
I grew a cage inside my mouth.
Remedy against the rules:
You should know. You should know better.
We don¹t talk of anything important.
We just keep score.
This is the story you will live. Forget the rest. Forget.

When I was five I saw a black girl just my age.
She was jumping rope in East St.Louis.
I was on a family trip, passing through.
It wasn¹t hate I felt, but  envy.

Now it is five decades later.
Will I trade my tongue-tied privilege for her passion.
Will she trade her freedom for my franchise and leave the world silent.
Or will we grab each other other arm in arm, unite the human race.