All along the rail
road tracks of texas
old train cars lay
like new african governments
long forgotten by the people
who built & rode them
till they couldn't run no more,
they remind me of old race horses
who've been put out to pasture
amongst the weeds
rain sleet &snow
till they die,rot away
like photos fading
in grandma's picture book,
of old black men in mississippi/texas
who sit on dilapidated porches,
that fall away
like dead man'…
I didn't want to wait on my knees
In a room made quiet by waiting.
A room where we'd listen for the rise
Of breath, the burble in his throat.
I didn't want the orchids or the trays
Of food meant to fortify that silence,
Or to pray for him to stay or to go then
Finally toward that ecstatic light
I didn't want to believe
What we believe in those rooms:
That we are blessed, letting go,
Letting someone, anyone,
Drag open the drapes and heave us Bak into our blinding, bright lives
When your own sweet father died
You woke before first light
And ate half a plate of eggs and grits,
And Drank a glass of milk.
After you'd left, I sat in your place
And finished the toast bits with jam
And the cold eggs, the thick bacon
Flanged in fat , savoring the taste.
Then I slept, too young to know how narrow
And grave the road before you seemed---
All the houses zipped tight , the night's
Few clouds muddy as cold coffee.
You stayed gone a week, and who were we
Without your clean p…
There is a deep brooding
Old crimes like moss pend
from poplar trees.
The sullen earth
is much too
red for comfort.
Sunrise seems to hesitate
and in that second
dusk no more shadows
than the noon.
The past is brighter yet.
Old hates and
ante-bellum lace,are rent
but not discarded.
Today is yet to come
it writhes. It writhes in awful brooding.