The Third Day (of Poetry Month)

The world today seems conflicted and at odds with itself. More than I ever remember it being before. So I worry about all of us.

Who says I am not coloured?
        for Maya

And this day too will pass

onto a blackened nightfall;

I see you from the inside out.

The skin to a cover only (not a brick wall;

not a locked door; not a

sentence of death) to keep the weather

from the heart and lungs.

Do you see me crawl?

I do not call for help

from any of you back-boys.

Must you shout the truth about

our destiny? Is it not yours also?

The mask you wear reflects the light

of all returning souls. It is the

brightness of our lives that gives

the heaven fruit. Not the

pigment of our skins.

I am as black

as white will

closet you.

[© Catherine 1999]