History

A Poem for Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day

A Memorial to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. from my grandparent’s record collection.

History doesn’t dissolve.
It lives in the soil,
grows roots,
swims in hungry bellies,
feeding thoughts.

History sticks to walls,
watches everything,
hides in crevices,
Waiting to be found.

History hitches rides on DNA,
carrying stories-sweet or stinking-
that never fade.

History repeats.
Repeats.
Repeats.

History shouts warnings
the masses ignore.
It makes maps
for the directionally challenged.
It molds minds—
softens, hardens hearts.

History creeps down corridors,
wishing someone sees it.

History doesn’t dissolve.
It repeats.
Repeats.
Repeats.