We drove ten hours to visit friends in the mountains.
The first night, within the first three hours,
the subject of white privilege created rapids between us.
Our opposing stance ripped us apart —
rocks, cliffs, and rough waters divided us.
We were far apart — on the cliffs,
falling, hitting our heads against rocks
drowning, raising our hands up to be saved —
to find our way back into each other’s heart,
or at least around the table.
We are friends — this was supposed to be a safe space.
But Anger stood,
voices boomed with heated words,
the trembling came.
Then the floodgates of hot tears rolled.
Then —
there was silence. And the light shone from the peenie wallies*.
Then a shift — a movement from head to heart.
Then an outstretched hand.
Then a hug.
The following day we walked through the fields,
over the hills, beside the creek, and my friend
built a Cairn — a heap of stones set up as a landmark.
*lighting bugs
♥
Kadine Christie
