Woman and Child at the George Floyd Protests, by Clay Banks
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Learning to See
Sheila Robertson Under a gold leaf sky I wade streamside with my camera through spikey reeds swaying in a raft of light Water slides over granite shelves splatters green beds of moss with liquid beads hisses through rock clefts My shutter freezes a kingfisher’s wing a blue-grey up beat at the point of its dive and my heart catches with my breath I follow the cascade of water to a fall of curving stamens climbing the lime green throat of a blood red flower I ride planes of light absorbed in these holy moments Wonder at so many gifts and slowly learn to see |
Through other lenses
I regard the larger world A camera captures the murder of a black man His last breath still warm under a police officer’s knee Three policemen look on And people find their anger TV cameras record marches The screen repeats grainy photos of buried history: Ocoee Massacre Tulsa Massacre Wilmington Massacre Crowds tear down hate symbols resurrect truth tell their story grief pain oppression At this tipping point I hold my breath and hope that this tumult is also a gift Another that will teach us to see |