Black Poetry : lonely in the dark

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Oct 7, 2003
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North Carolina via NY
One night when sleep was distant as the moon
the noise of white wine buzzed around my face
As light from a lamp leaned against my eyes
I watched the window glaring at the trees
standing on the grass like tall dark negroes
Afros shaped by the wind, swatted at flies
Each one high-fived another when one missed
They all paused when a plastic bag tangled
with the fence. For a moment the moon looked
away. The wind howled. Tree shadows rolled on
the floor, crossed the room and curled on my couch
They could have kept moving but they didn't.
I talked all night about the smaller things.
 

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