The morning after the polls
closed, it drizzled, a cold pervasive
grey over the city of dessicated
chicken bones and smack junkies.
But even the ancient black man
who owned the corner, his perpetual
yard sale of boosted goods, boomed
Hallaluahs and parsed out peace
signs to passing cars for free.
My president, too; but I could
not lay the same claim.
Prompt - City
The day after the 2008 elections, Baltimore beamed. This is a hard-scrabble place, at least where I work, and for the people of a predominantly black inner city, the joy of finding a black man in the presidential office was palpable.