Page 7 - Can I Touch Your Hair?: Poems of Race, Mistakes, and Friendship

Apology

When Shonda
presents
her family tree
to the class,

I see all
the top branches
are draped
in chains.

Because my
ancestors
were slaves,
she says.

I swallow.
I want to say
I’m
sorry,
but those words
are so small
for something
so big.

Still I want to try.

So I write it
on a scrap of paper,
find her library book,
and tuck it inside.

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