Cuffed
The police are taking him to a white van,
his palms zip-tied behind his again.
That is what I see on Instagram: my son
in a yellow Say No to Fossil Fuels t-shirt,
wooden beads round his neck, his hair
dripping sweat. Police in riot helmets
with weapons. He’s being arrested once more
exterior Citibank’s revolving door. Concern
clenches my throat, its claws lengthy and sharp,
just like the claws on the enormous snapping turtle
I noticed climb out of the new bathroom muck
final week. Warrior, lugging its scuffed armor,
unable to close out hurt. Its eyes are
cupped by three pairs of lids, good for closing tight.


Learn extra Letters to America in Expensive America: Letters of Hope, Habitat, Defiance and Democracy, printed by Trinity College Press in collaboration with Terrain.org.
Header picture by Jack Bulmer, courtesy Pixabay.