I can see a man sitting in his wagon, directing his horse.
He is a black man, wearing clean clothes and a straw hat.
I do not know him, but can identify with him.
I could even be him.
I do not know where he is going but
he obviously knows his destination.
He continues on, probably to a town for supplies.
He is me and I wonder if I will forget anything.
He is at one with nature.
The time is in the past and in an area
where racism is not a factor.
People of all persuasions attend churches and
schools and normality is existential.
I am that man and have respect for
what is about me including the environment.
I know things change including the weather.
Glaciers existed where I am now farming.
My soil is arid and difficult to work.
I keep showing up through thick and thin.
I hope for success for myself and family and fellow farmers.
I am not aware of the lynching in the south.
I am at peace and free to proceed with life.
I am now the white man observing the man in his wagon.
At this time there is no pining against him.
He is one of us.
These are good times and we feel that they will hold forever.
I am so sorry that we are wrong.
Stanski
August 5, 2020 ^
Steve Haarman 