I do not fall
Because I know boys such as this
who reach their hand out to me and call
“Jump! I’ll catch you!”
And as I edge,
Closer to the ledge
Toes half in gravity, trepidatious, I reply
“You see I’ve fallen before-
I’ve crashed to the ground.
I’ve tasted the earth, the soil, and the gravel”
But This is Not My Child
I could never tell a single soul how I really feel about the girl-child. She is not of me. She is my husband’s child.
The Objections of Cats
My words pat her on the hand and
Shoo her protests like stray cats
But
She objects just once more
What Lies Beneath the Skin
My grandfather called my hair was “too niggerish”
When my mother refused lye and hot comb
I told him my brown skin was a blessing
He admonished “Girl!
Watch your tone”