Black Mother Poem by Areese Woodson

Dear Black Mother

Sorry...
I know -
Too many times -
Above you has walked.
But crossing your path once more...
Must be those footsteps.

See...
It was two choices
I was given.
Her hand -
I took at first.
Fragile -
It was,
But her hairs were not.
Standing trees from hurricanes -
They were much like.
Knowledge -
As intense as the winds.
A mist -
I was left in.
Fog -
Lingering.
Blackness of her locks -
The only clear night.
And the worst of dreads -
I couldn't tell;
Admitting I was a coward,
Or telling her,
She was no longer who I wanted.

So back to the field -
I went.
The other hand -
I took.
Morning sky,
As each eye.
Storms -
Were none.
Away -
Was the fog.
And thinking -
I never had to do around her.

Now back to you -
I am.
The vain you sleep in -
I know.
Her father,
Your pillaged body -
I know.
Blood are your tears -
I know.
But following -
I must.
A choice -
I made.
So yourself -
Don't blame.

By my side -
She will stay.
Because...
As boiled down it is...
The love for you -
I never really had.