THE KNEE

(for Colin Kaepernick)

He took the knee, knelt down,

A gesture personal and reflective,

While for the anthem those round him stood,

He was genuflective.

 

Knelt not in respect nor in submission,

But in defiance – you stand I kneel,

Ashamed, not proud of the nation,

Where brothers wear the baton’s weal.

 

The gesture, silent, spoke in volumes,

About acts of state brutality,

Shouted out that black lives matter,

Demanded racial equality.

 

As the words rang out - home of the brave.

Proclaiming to all - land of the free,

Colin Kaepernick begged to differ,

He made a stand; he took the knee.

 

 

[Poem - 21 June 2023]

WATCH OUT

 Psst! Do you wanna buy a watch?

I turned to the man stood at my elbow. His attire was sharp, but the style was dated. He drew up his jacket sleeve to reveal a bare arm striped with watchstraps bearing garish timepieces. This one, he said, pointing, tells the time in fifteen cities worldwide; and this, indicating another, has the phases of the moon.

I showed no interest and tried to turn away, but he bared his other arm and thrust a plain looking wristwatch in front of me. This one, he said, is special. It shows how long you have left until you die!

I could not help but glance at it. The watch face seemed wrong, there was no hour hand, or minute hand, just a second-hand winding backwards to zero.

That’s nonsense, I said, it only has seconds.

So do you, he said, producing a ten-inch blade.

 

[A one-hundred-and-fifty-word story - 13 June 2024]

SUMMONED TO COURT

Summoned to court, he wore a suit and tie rather than his scrapman’s overalls. Charged with stealing the park railings, he soon realised his hopes for acquittal were fading. After consultation with his brief, he changed his plea to guilty and asked for another fence to be taken into consideration.

[A fifty-word story - 6 June 2024]

THE BAND OF TRUTH

An early morning walk on my own along the beach was a secret guilty pleasure that I did not want to share with anyone, even my wife. While out this morning, on the shoreline of the retreating tide, I found a small tin rusted shut. It rattled when shook, so I brought it home and took it into the shed where I prised off the lid with a chisel.

Inside was a bracelet, a solid band of copper or bronze, on the inside surface of which I could make out some lettering. I wiped away some surface dust with a rag and read aloud the words inscribed: “I am the truth - the circle of righteousness - speak no falsehood - deceive no man or woman”

Fair enough, I thought, and tried the band for size, finding I could just about slip my hand through the loop. At that moment, the shed door opened, and my wife poked her head inside.

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing at my arm. “Where did you get it?”

I hesitated, knowing I had kept quiet about my early morning beach walks. “I got it in the charity shop last week,” I said. As I spoke the bracelet tightened ever so slightly. “I got it for you,” I continued. The pressure on my wrist grew.

“Let me see,” she said.

“I can’t take it off,” I said, truly, realising that from now on not only would honesty be the best policy, but the only option.

 

[A two-hundred-and-fifty-word story -15 February 2024]