Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Reception (poem)

By Nordette N. Adams

I wrote a different story for you,
I wrote a different story.
When I saw you, beautiful, proud,
and shackled to a hateful eye,
I wrote a different story,

one where you leapt and stretched,
where you ripped dusty rags from your head
to let your mixed waves flow
with no shame.

I gave to you a new name
and the dream to be free,
no man's ring on your finger,
no chain link through your nose,

a path to travel and make mistakes
in foot-poking gravel
like a soul of understanding.

When I saw you speak the doleful tale,
how your daddy stung you with the whip
and your mother could not bend to help you,
that to an old man of land you were given as
his salvation, I pulled a pen from my satchel
and wrote you in a palace
with songs calling lost ships home.

You were me, a woman of dreams,
fighting for air, recalling
jazz like a foreign tongue,
fighting fate, the foolish trick.

You were a seed.
I am your fruit bearing resurrection.

(c) Copyright 2010 Nordette N. Adams

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