December 0

Blog Archive

Thu, 24.09.2009

Roots by Charlotte Watson Sherman

I am sorry you are
proud of the man
who raped your
grandmother and left
your hair good.
Please, this is not
envy it is sorrow
for the long road
we must travel
to be sisters. My
lineage can be traced
through the roots
of my hair to
Nairobi. Do not
try to make me
ashamed of this f
act, sorry my hair
grows in dry tight
cottonfields on my
head and will not
fly in the wind
like to woman I am not….

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New Poem Each Day

Poetry Corner

God morning heartache, you old gloomy sight. Good morning heartache, tho't we said goodbye last night. I tossed and turned until it seemed you had gone, but here you... GOOD MORNING HEARTACHE by Irene Higginbotham.
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