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
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]
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