There were polka dots
on the inside window pane where children pressed noses onto the cool, smooth glass.

There were tatoos
of his hands on the backs of your arms and a plum blossom he planted beneath
the lower lid of your right hazel eye.

There were two sets of fingerprints on the gun
on the still dark morning when you made your marital bed with a scarlet spread.

One year later,
there were cameras, reporters and hordes of gawkers on the old court house steps.

I was late due to my trembling and could not see you over the many heads.

I knew how you stood and feared this would become your permanent stance.
I had been your lawyer.
I stood that way too,
with one foot in black and one foot in blue.

jodi barone