My head is tilted skyward with the pride of it all.
warm sunshine not blocked by city buildings
caresses my cheeks.
An uncontrollable smile is brightened by
autumn colored Maple trees
lining the smooth sidewalk.
No dodging of broken bottles, trash, and gunshot
induced blood spatters required
as I glide my son’s
stroller to the park.
I made it out.
No more meals at the center
to save tuition money or 2AM walks
home from serving drinks and
fending off drunken aggressions.
His giggles reverberate off the
wooden playground structures as
I guide him down the slippery slide,
his soft black curls blowing in the breeze.
Other mothers blurt out
“oohs” and “awes”
watching him toddle over to the sandbox and
plop down next to his little blonde- haired friend.
I relish this,
hoping as he ages that the
baby “awe” moments won’t be replaced
by black man fear.
Perhaps by then
color won’t matter.