the middle of the end. There are only 3 days left in February – and that’s with the extra day! So, I have no choice but to keep subjecting you to poetry through the end of the week.
It’s such beautiful poetry! And Black History month should be all year long anyway.
She does not know
She thinks her brown body
Has no glory.
If she could dance
Under palm trees
And see her image in the river,
She would know.
But there are no palm trees
On the street,
And dish water gives back no images.