I wonder what I did to you,
woman of colour, defined by race.
Was it the whiteness of my skin
that offended you? Or maybe it
was the whiteness of my attitude
that I knew it all as Colonial boy,
or that I judged too much.
You, of First Nations, saw a different
me than the one shaving in the mirror,
a me stripped of the virtues
of which I am proud.
But what that me is I will never know.
The mystery remains for the conversation
ended in silent resolve to seek no more.
And so two beings of noble worth are
consigned to silence and no singing at all.