At midnight When they return Chortling and talking loudly You sense their carousal, Their smart turning of time, Their derision of the world.
Sweating after a hard day's work You cower in the darkness When they thump Each other on the shoulders, Making whooping Native Indian calls And revving up their SUV engines.
You always knew That there was a color divide, A burning desire to be a shade lighter Than you were, But never thought that in the darkness Color takes on an altogether different hue.
