This house smells almost new,

gleaming with fresh wall paint,

and varnished hardwood floors.

Your sister-in-law sweated long hours

to clean it out, fix it up,

after you and her sister died.

Good realtor that she is,

she sold it in two weeks

to an interested stranger,

a single man, a policeman,

eager to move into this entrenched

blue-collar white neighborhood.

Did I mention the buyer is black?

I wish him the best of luck, as

he won’t be welcomed from all quarters.

But who knows?  He may turn out

a better neighbor than you ever were,

if only they give him a chance.

What’s that I hear,

that whirring sound?

Could it be you,

who always trashed anyone of color?

Could it be you,

spinning in your grave?

07/22/2003

Posted on 07/23/2003
Copyright © 2026 Bruce W Niedt