To whom it may concern
A strongly worded poem
Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedTo Whom It May Concern
My baby is crying because his hands are cold
From walking his big sister from the car to the school
And even though
He is not my baby, really,
I would fight a tiger to warm him.
Yesterday there was an attack in London, and this morning
An unfamiliar bike was parked against the school,
with a large black package strapped to it.
And I debated the pros and cons of calling the police
Of spreading panic for no reason versus saving the lives of all those children.
And fear filled my stomach and my bloodstream
As I picked up my baby and looked around for a grown-up in charge
For two long minutes before a woman hopped on the bike
And rode away.
Then the fear soured in my veins
Into anger at nothing and everything.
And I would fight a tiger
To warm my baby's hands, and the hands
Of the refugee babies who are also mine.
But there is no tiger here, this morning, that I can find.
So instead, I crank up the heat as we get back in the car
And pull over into the Dunkin's parking lot
To write a strongly worded poem
To the grown-ups
Or to whomever is in charge
Or to whom it may concern.
From my poetry collection, Open Things.