pain
ripples in
waves from
his shoulders
to the small of his
back….
pain, the pulse,
the evidence
that the blood
in his veins
runs Black....
his posture bent
from the many times
he’s stooped
for the endless
hours he’s spent
to preserve his
God-given right
to live…
to use his hands
and heart to gather
and to give
working to affect
meaningful change
and the right
to keep his
true sir-name
sweat,
the precious liquid of
honorable men
..runs in streams
from his furrowed,
yet determined
brow
the libation
for the souls
of Black folk
who ain’t here
now
Alyce (c) 2001
ripples in
waves from
his shoulders
to the small of his
back….
pain, the pulse,
the evidence
that the blood
in his veins
runs Black....
his posture bent
from the many times
he’s stooped
for the endless
hours he’s spent
to preserve his
God-given right
to live…
to use his hands
and heart to gather
and to give
working to affect
meaningful change
and the right
to keep his
true sir-name
sweat,
the precious liquid of
honorable men
..runs in streams
from his furrowed,
yet determined
brow
the libation
for the souls
of Black folk
who ain’t here
now
Alyce (c) 2001