No one driving behind me
I pushed down
and the turn signal clicked louder than it ever had.
A crescendo of clicks turned my neck towards my teen daughter sitting in the passenger seat.
She has a learner’s permit now-
but soon, she will be alone in a car driving to dance class, a friend’s house, or Sunday school.
A poem of misery churned within me.
Click. Click. Click.
In a mere lapse of thought
Sandra Bland simply forgot to push her turn signal.
The sirens grew louder behind her and unaware
A crescendo of her last days commenced.
Click. Click. Click
Could a click have prevented
her bones from cracking
and her body from growing limp and cold in a jail cell three days later?
Click. Click. Click
These are stories I hate –
but have to tell,
so I swallow the knot in my throat
and watch as they turn my daughter’s world upside down.
The simple thought of saying “drive safely” is for the privileged.
Kadine Christie
