I Sit and Look Out
I sit and look out at a field of blooming faces,
wildflowers of many colors
planted in the soil of creaking desks,
shining under the buzz of fluorescent lights.
I sit and look out at Afros and braids,
buzz cuts and hijabs
What is keeping all the majestic gold
from spilling out?
I sit and look out at morning pencils moving
across the page and feel the energy
between us like the secret sign
language of branches moving in the wind.
I sit and look out at dusty brick walls,
graffiti tags, flat brimmed hats, black eyeliner
and am carried along in the current
of being young and alive.
What I Remember at The Land
I remember rows of sunflowers, explosions of gold,
prickly green stem arching upward like the neck of a giraffe.
I remember looking into the eyes of fresh morning light.
I remember walking barefoot, fertile black humanity squishing
between my toes.
Each morning, a baptism:
pools of crystal gathered on leaves and petals.
I remember air.
Breathing in a new way. Taking it in, exploding inside-
Pure Eden high.
I remember the rusty red Honda rolling on moonlit gravel.
Laying down to watch the fiery orbs above.
Being blanketed in velvet blackness,
held in the cradle of the Universe.
I remember resonating- harmonizing-
with the glowing incantation
like I was levitating,
like the taste of my first kiss,
like I belonged.
She yawns like an old dog
by a grandfather clock after a long
summer day. She’s all buzz and glistening dew
of a mermaid on shore;
Flushed and rosy as a dolphin docked.
She chews on pocketed Cheese-Its
and slurps cran-apple elixir poured
to the split perfect sipping spot.
She is dirty nails and compost worm bin,
creaping and crawling through the ruffled leaves
of backyard woodpiles and flag post pansies.
On dark nights she’s screeching eagle strong
and bare bosomed Greek goddess
clamping victory to her chest
against night terrors and sweat binding tremors.
like eating miracle whip
off a bloated summer slug.