I needed room for deeper
reflection in southern states.
Life had knocked me down
enough for one lifetime,
but I’ll take more of the same
if Hannah remains beside me
in the car that I drive along I-5,
merging into the 405.
We flipped a coin.
Hannah wanted to visit her folks in Carolina.
I had sights to see in Virginia.
Carolina it was.
From Seattle, we crossed state lines
that I never thought to cross.
Most people in the southern states
didn’t mind my dark skin.
A scoff here or there
caught me in my feelings.
We came far enough in our country
to enter an eatery as an interracial couple
but felt eyes slicing us with judgment.
We ordered and paid.
Hannah said not to,
but I left a tip anyway.
I forced a Northern smile.
She said her piece, and we left.
We, in the North, aren’t
so different from those, trying
to make a life in the South.
We both have a guarded suspicion
of people that we don’t know.
We took stock of the sins of others
from places we’ve never been.
Hannah’s dad took down his Confederate flag
after he walked a mile in my shoes.
His wisdom caught my attention
and taught me life lessons.
Write poetry? Submit your poem to Poetry Catalog