By Gil Hoy
When I was in Charlottesville
studying the law.
Where the vestiges
of racism
Were carefully hidden
under a rug.
Its stain absorbed
by the wise, aging wood
Or swept away by
a black, hopeful janitor.
He diligently cleaned
Jefferson’s hallways
and bathrooms
So that one or more
of the gentrified students
Might one day
stamp out the racism
Still permeating America’s
noble, hallowed halls.
Category: SNHU Creative Writing, SNHU online creative writing