after Gwendolyn Brooks To the Heron long and lean standing still on the cornerswhere the waters bend; to the Heron gracefully greypoised at the water’s edge; to the Heron paintedin the tapestry of reeds, waiting, waiting – I wantto learn the art of waiting in these dread full timesthick engulfing, choking times; to the Heronlong-limbed, […]

Tipton, this tongue-tippingdouble syllable of a word,this Bermuda Trianglebetween Brum and Wolves.This lost city quintessentiallyBlack Country, God’s belly buttonof the Universe has got me. I’m 10 and visiting the cousins,the only black family in Princess Ends.Streets wide enough to pass on gossipand a horse in somebody’s front garden. I watched cousins as dark as the […]

the days are long enough to travel three hours by train to walk with you from Top Lock to Bottom Lock: a descent of sixteen locks should give us time to talk. The noon sun is hot on the cobblestones, already, and I’m so happy to be here with you after all you’ve been through. […]