Color Blind
My first best friend was second grade.
No doubt forever had I stayed
Longer than the mobile home that housed me.
Coal black hair and three pigtails,
She made me smile where others failed,
Her pink palms playing in the mud beside me.
My mother was quite taken back,
As I was white and she was black
And tempers rose around oppressive trend.
Kids can be mean and some are cruel
Not many knew the golden rule
Except my dark skinned beautiful friend.
So much I didn't understand.
My color blindness was not bland.
It treated me to a rainbow of excursion.
For I was only trailer trash,
Oilfield rabble, not much cash,
A prime candidate for introversion.
She never noticed I was white.
She never blinked one brown eye.
While we shared our lunch and girly dreams.
So glad I am I was awake
And open to a skinless state
While others missed so much of her it seems.