By Walidah Imarisha
For Haramia KiNassor (Kenneth Foster Jr.)
8 hours before
he was scheduled to depart this earth
8 hours before
hope slipped away
it was rekindled
wild brush forest fire
we
his wife and I
ran into the prison
whooping
screaming and singing
his father laughed through tears
his grandfather just nodded
he had never lost the faith
supporters with signs meant to shame a nation
did cartwheels across the green grass
tended by captive hands
I would have joined them
if I knew how to cartwheel
instead I flung my body down
buried my face in an earth
that still understood some semblance of justice
spread my arms wide
and took up space
we reclaimed the prison that day
for once there was no shouts of
move along don’t loiter
no hands on guns
no eyes narrowed with hate and disdain
they knew we had won
And we were allowed this
our victory feast
even though they executed a man
the day before
even though they executed a man
the day after
every day that week
another candle extinguished between fingers dipped in red
but on the fifth day they didn’t rest
on the fifth day
we pushed them back
we roared their hands away from the switch
we shoved the needle out of his veins
with the blood pumping in ours
we broke restraints and twisted bars
we know it is not the end
but on the fifth day
8 hours before his execution
I did a somersault on the lawn of a prison
steeped in death
and smelled only the wild poppies
