Breathe
In June while taking a philosophy/poetry class, I wrote a poem, "Breathe," also shocked, saddened, yet inspired to help in any way possible. My husband, a disabled Vietnam veteran, has leukemia (from Agent Orange) and I am also in the high risk category so we cannot march or gather in groups. The poem describes my response to George Floyd's murder and the murder of so many other innocent black men and women, and also my intention to contribute any way I am able.
Mary Anna Kruch lives in Michigan
By Mary Anna Kruch
I breathe out, have need to draw air in
as grief meets loss of life again —
deaths rooted in ruthlessness
brutality bias ignorance.
I proclaim Injustice!
long to sweep away silence
dispense words in defense of air,
most markedly when the streets are bare.
I am an elder at high risk
who cannot join protests in the streets –
but wish my words could breathe for me.
But how do I pen a mother’s pain?
A father’s face in lasting shadow?
A barren space in lovers’ bed?
A partner’s empty place at table?
We flower children of the 60s
must own this to ignite change.
All must listen, learn, study, burn
with resolve then burst forth, imbued
with passion in placards, poetry, prose:
speak truth to ignorance
even on the bleakest of nights
venture out fight shields down.
Breathe in slowly breathe out even more so.