In a dirt alley shaped by decay and weeds,
a young black woman wearing a yellow dress
and white high heels, walked ahead of me.
Across her shoulder was a sleeping baby.
Hanging from her arm, a used shopping
bag filed with diapers and toys, She was
dragging a purple suitcase. Mud clung to
its wheels as though it didn’t want her to go.
When she noticed me I smiled and tried to
make a face that suggested she had nothing
to fear from me. But, why should she believe
me I thought—for I am a man, and she has
seen that face before.
2013 Movie Journal Entry #21: Fruitvale Station