Above the shouts and shots,
The roaring flames and the siren’s blare,
Listen for the stilled voice
Of the man who is no longer there.
Above the tramping of the endless line
Of marchers along the street,
Listen for the silent step
Of the dean man’s invisible feet.
Lock doors, put troops at the gate,
Guard the legislative halls,
But tremble when the dead man comes,
Whose spirit walks through walls.
Edith Lovejoy Pierce in Drum Major for a Dream
Over a half century ago MLK gave voice to his dreams for his children. That a time would come when who they were would count for more than the color of their skin. It's 2014 and that dream is as far from being realized now as it was then. If not further. Dipping my toe into the comments on an article on AOL about the president pardoning two turkeys this Thanksgiving. I'm not providing a link to the story it's too damn depressing and frankly disgusting. And I only read the first page. I didn't feel like going any deeper into the cesspool.