Imagine knowing your name
may be reserved for a space on a protestor’s sign:

Maybe those whose names we say
now are among The Better Angels,
or maybe they are who
became The Better Angels,
the once-amongst-us now greeted and sheltered
by impossible winged ones who
welcome each other to some unspeakable hall
of honor in the heavens.

I am only now learning the way to speak of The Better Angels,
hope to herald their change and
also think of the families, friends, communities…
It isn’t about me, still that “I” I worked to use sparingly in high school love letters.

The list
of the names of people of color deserves
more than a monument because
our country– their country–
owes them the building of our wealth and national
treasures, credit woefully past due to care and protect
and treat them as humans and better

than most of us

treat ourselves.

At an untold heavenly altitude, I believe The Better Angels
fear no barriers and all of us can see we all can finally breathe.