Friday, August 11, 2017

On the Pavement

Here where I am brown
and beautiful
Where my curls are not the only thing you can look for
to find me in the crowd
Here where I am loud
and bright and brass
A fit for every thump and sway and stomp
History belongs to me; I am rich with it
My feet black and wet from the soil my ancestors tended
are not just strong for labor
my hands not just fine for toil
I am a man here
I land with force
tender is my touch
Here in the place where I am art
my sound rains this pride
and floods this place
with who I am
and beautiful
Flushed and hot I rush
through that door
blind with joy that overrides and fills
to greet the pavement outside.

Where I am brown.

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