Rosa

Rosa
by Rita Dove

How she sat there,
the time right inside a place
so wrong it was ready.

That trim name with
its dream of a bench
to rest on. Her sensible coat.

Doing nothing was the doing:
the clean flame of her gaze
carved by a camera flash.

How she stood up
when they bent down to retrieve
her purse. That courtesy.

"Rosa" from On the Bus With Rosa Parks, W. W. Norton & Co., © 1999 by Rita Dove. Used by permission of the author. All rights reserved.

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