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Flying In  For Ms. W.Corals withdraw their fibrous arms, hide away their stars. And you, my sister, had your hands closed tight as coffers. Give us your stars, they called. Spill them out from your palms. I watched you stand on the corner of the horizon as they approached, bearing chains. Between your fingers bars of red glowed, that sure evidence of light. Is that light what kept you alive beneath their boots? It was all you had. Although you hobbled, your fists shone. As the ceiling was thatched impossible to snap. As you tucked your feet under for lack of shoes. And how you answered hardly when called upon in the watery heat, they in their white-wigged repose, you so weary, perspiring, large dark woman whose earlobes hung almost ferociously over her shoulders, whose thick enlightened lips should have been laughing. Then in your scarlet dress you trampled off, proudly barefoot, azure landscape bowing. Heaven paused for reception. My knees bruised from my moment on the stones. My head watching you fall, your hands flying open, shaking the sea, strewing the sky with the bright trail of your thousand undimmed novas of fortitude. The beginning of a long and blazing night. |