poem: Casey Rocheteau

poem: Casey Rocheteau

Union Station
January 2014

Casey Rocheteau

The first time I was black

I was staring out the sliding glass door
at the mourning doves in the back yard.
My white mother came up
behind me and said that if anyone
didn’t want to be my friend at school
it was their loss. I asked,
Why would anyone not want to be my friend?
well, because you’re black.
I looked at my hands
uncomprehending…

Read the entire poem here.

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