“Don’t tell me your dreams
until after the sun comes up, ”
he’d say. But the light won’t change
that he’s a black Man and I
am a white woman in Alabama.
Daylight, and truth don’t matter.
So we learned to touch only
with our eyes and our words.
Knowing no job is tenured
against bigotry, it finds its way.
So, here after dark, I dream,
and wait for unrelenting dawns.

Cheryl Lynn Moyer Peele

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/don-t-tell-me-your-dreams/