Nana

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If there be a legacy
Decidedly mine will be
Silver not white, though all it’s worth
Afro-bold, in spirit, for, I’ll keep good company

Down with brushing shifting shoulders at all times, Day or Night
Upswept, if it serves a proper purpose

Shouts The Story everyday

If thinning it becomes in my end days
May it be that others gathered to pass on the baton
Queens that came before me, know this: You did your job

Keep Fallin’

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I am ashamed at myself

For truck headlights I’ve studied from the front porch swing
That turned-tail and ran

For flowers I’ve cultivated from the heart for us
That went wholly uncherished

Heavy rains pour down
These dancing feet now dampened

I am ashamed at you

Becoming Midnight

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Spent yesterday contemplating clocks
As humans have, from age to age
Many days, these hands sweep effortlessly
The pain hidden by some gift of grace
Yesterday, oh, the seconds though
Surely they doubled in gravity
Looped back and proceeded to wait….

This business of time is rather an art
So thus, must be valued as such
Will I wait one more night
One more day’s tick-tock ruse
When it seems only correct to go
Godspeed today
Where I know my heart must be tomorrow

Quiet Wins

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I’m promising her I’ll notice

The grains of sand
One by one falling away

The fog, that had cooled her head
Rolling back, uncool, after all

The once-silent roar
The power regained

Now since she’s picked up her mat