Thursday, February 27, 2014

CRUMBLED EXCITEMENT

This poem is for you.

I see you.
I see what happened.
I am sad, and I am angry.
You are enveloped in my comforting hug.

You are one of three children, 
One African American, two Caucasian,
Selected for an interview at Met Opera's
Taped theater format of Rusalka.

Your bright eyes sparkle,
Your smile wide on your brown face,
Evidence of excitement 
About being chosen,
Standing in front row.
Free from frog costume headdress,
Head and face fully visible.
Barely-breathing anticipation,
Almost uncontainable.

Attention finally directed 
Toward breathless, waiting children.
Question asked;
White boy immediately responds;
White girl adds, follow-up interaction.
Interviewer moves on.

This cannot be happening!
This cannot be true!
I am here too!

You realize, once again, you are
Invisible and passed over.
Your face reflects shock and disbelief;
Your eyes lose focus and glaze over; 
Your brilliant smile crumbles and fades;
Your feelings retreat and recede inward.

I see you.
I see what happened.
I am sad, and I am angry.
You are enveloped in my comforting hug.

This poem is for you and you alone.

Ann Beth Blake
(c) February 20, 2014

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