of it all--dead bodies strewn
in the street and on porch steps.
We don't know why whoever
(the police won't tell us who, Renisha)
shot you in the back of your head.
Shot you. In the back of your head.
When you went for help
Help. You were already afraid
and I imagine you couldn't have
imagined that you'd get shot for
crying, "Help!" I'm crying as
I think of you, shocked by
the cruel irony of it all--
trying to save your life,
bleeding out on a porch
from a shot to the back of
your head, which--I mean--
does that mean you had
given up and was ready
to try someone else, to seek
help from another neighbor.
We can't know because
your cell phone was dead
before you were and
there are no texts even
telling us what happened
to you. The police
are protecting the person
who shot you because,
well, they're right this time.
We might very well
riot and rage in the streets.
Tired as we are of writhing
in the dust of our grief,
what else could we do?
Renisha, I hope death
was merciful and quick.
I hope you didn't have to
ask yourself the questions
we are asking, like,
really? who shoots a
woman in the back of the head
for daring to come up on their
porch and ask for help???
© Valerie Bridgeman
November 9, 2013
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