This morning I watched a Black woman cross the street
in a white dress
She was blue collar
We were problems for the other
Separated by class or degrees – –

And the books I’d complained were heavy
lightened with the weight I felt watching her
Young and tired of being yanked at by
men and kids who gave validity
and took away hope

We knew to speak
And she smiled with contempt for my freedom
She must be the strong one
For cementing households and raising the Black children
For putting up with the men and that little bit…

Her stamina moves her
Forward and out of sight
Between buildings that lose us