Mikki Karotkin


A summer morning –
Nineteen sixty three -
The mirror shows me skin
the color of coffee with good rich cream
colored skin, big dark eyes, flat nose,
wide lipped smile lighting
up my happy face.

This was before we were
African-American,
Before we were Black.

I used to look at my Crayolas
and wonder colored what?

On the street I notice glances,
some from men, some from women,
and wonder what they see
looking at me.

Sometimes while shopping in a
department store, I feel eyes watching
and look around to see someone
following me, looking to see if there
will be something missing when I leave
empty-handed.

I look through the scarves
But nothing will match
What I already have
And I refuse to buy
What I don’t need.