Gate opened before
Your fiery approach
Were you hoping to crash through?

Front stoop adorned with
Gladiolus – her namesake
Did that transplant your perennial presumptions?

Windows shining like
Dark crescent eyes with wrinkled corners
Did they reflect back your insolence?

Door speaking softly
Swinging inward upon this vestibule
Did that cause you to be so unhinged?

Vibrant edges rounded by
Centuries of discrimination
I’m sorry, did she somehow steal your thunder?

Day Thirteen of Na/GloPoWriMo challenges us to write a poem about a non-apology for something stolen. This “sorry-not-sorry” poem is based on the accommodation that people of color make daily in the face of white privilege, and in particular it is inspired by a dear wise woman with whom I’ve had the honor to work.