naked in bed…

don’t sleep
in
no
fancy
silk pajamas
don’t wanna cover up
my
birthmark
cuz
i
don’t want
the
lord
making any mistakes
about
whose
time it is
or
who
did what
with
whom
last saturday night
not
that
the lord
would make a mistake
but
given
his angels
were once human
well
enough said

 

an easter query…

crossing
the railroad tracks
the pastor
arrived
at
an old
post-war bungalow
residence
of
miss maybel
who
in her prime
was
much sought after
by
a number
of
the town’s
most
charming
and
handsome
men
of
color
but
she had said
no
to all
saying
i’ve fought
for
women’s rights
civil rights
and
looked after
white folks’ homes
and
their children
so
i don’t
have time
or
energy
to look after
anyone else
but
myself
age
took her suitors
some
time ago
as well as
most
of
her women friends
she didn’t make it to
good friday service
so
pastor
decided to stop by
she didn’t
answer
the door
but
it was open
calling in
he thought
he heard her
so
he entered
pale
sitting
in a chair
was maybel
death
even makes
a man of god
stop and evaluate
life
but
he quickly
resumed his role
and
asked
if she
was ready
to meet
her maker
with
her last
inaudible
breath
she answered

 

a gentle reminder…

the sea
has invaded
a small corner
of
the ship’s lounge
just below
the fancy tables
staking claim
to
all onboard
a salty residue
a reminder
that
we shall
all
return to the sea
from which
we emerged from
at
the beginning
of
time

 

reciprocity…

the lives
of
those
who defined
who we are
have
washed away
like
sand
as
we stood
on life’s beach
admiring
the view
and
enjoying
its offerings
but
just lately
you may
have begun
to feel
the cold surf
beneath
your feet
as
someone
further
on shore
admires
the view