Ahmaud Arbery
Run, run, Ahmaud Arbery,
out for your daily jog,
but three men are chasing you
as if you were a dog.
What will they do if they catch you
in this game in which you are the rabbit,
will they grab you, smile, tousle your hair
and ask what house you inhabit?
Or will they don white robes,
load their guns,
light their crosses,
put an end to your futile runs?
Run on, Ahmaud Arbery,
they’re closing in on you now,
and if you’re going to escape
there’s no one to tell you how.
It’s time, Ahmaud Arbery,
you’re young and strong, so fight,
Emmett, Trayvon and George above you
would like to see that sight.
But what is it now, a gun against hands,
and the dead cannot help you,
they themselves lie still and cold
and soon they will greet you.
The shotgun’s flash and roar,
the pellets invading your chest,
all you wanted was to be a man,
but your color failed their test.
They’ve had their day in court,
guilty, for the arc of justice is long,
but Ahmaud Arbery, you might go forgotten,
I fear that I’m not wrong.
Change is in the air they say,
both Black and White win their due,
but ask Emmett, Trayvon and George,
we’re destined to see more like you.
Jim Burns was born and raised in rural Indiana, and earned degrees at both Indiana State University and Indiana University. He then spent the bulk of his professional career as a librarian. A few years into retirement he decided that doing nothing wasn’t a good fit and returned to a long-held interest in writing, especially poetry, and since the pandemic years has published nearly 30 pieces. He lives with his wife and dog in Jacksonville, Florida.
The Marbled Sigh 