The following poem is based on the photograph taken by James Karales, Selma-to-Montgomery March for Voting Rights in 1965.
It looked like quite a storm
was brewing
that March day
when Karales snapped his photo.
The ominous clouds seemed to
dip down
Heaven itself
trying to intimidate the oppressed.
But the line of protesters
remains unaffected
by this heavenly threat -
extends into the horizon
fronted by what looks
like a row of chorus
dancers.
Will their audience be impressed
by their bold footwork?
Will the gods in heaven
relent?
Will those protesters still be dancing
in 100 years' time?
or will the rain cloud burst?
It looked like quite a storm
was brewing
that March day
when Karales snapped his photo.
The ominous clouds seemed to
dip down
Heaven itself
trying to intimidate the oppressed.
But the line of protesters
remains unaffected
by this heavenly threat -
extends into the horizon
fronted by what looks
like a row of chorus
dancers.
Will their audience be impressed
by their bold footwork?
Will the gods in heaven
relent?
Will those protesters still be dancing
in 100 years' time?
or will the rain cloud burst?
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