Stark still
we stare at each other,
neither saw the other approach,
a weathered old man
and a striking young fox.
Warmth blooms in my heart —
an instant chill in his.
Can my good intentions
prolong this precious moment?
No chance !
With riveting intensity he scans,
With lightning speed he’s gone.
Thousands of years
of fleeing genocide
are woven into his DNA,
Thousands of years
of ruthless brutality
is the legacy I carry.
As I stand quietly,
the myriad emotions
suddenly distill
to
Love,
Grief,
and Shame.
Poem by John Cannon.