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Author: Subject: The Forgotten Cotton
pheromones
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[*] posted on 3-22-2017 at 04:06 AM
The Forgotten Cotton



I have No Field of Lilies
Only Cotton Flowers that Bloom When I dance
Nurtured and watered by By Bloody Fingers that drip from being pricked
Twirl Spin and Fly High
Gravity is my Sky For I am unable to be Lifted
I dance to Old Negro spirituals Sung By My Ancestors
The Crickets and Ladybugs Applaud at every recital
They Gave me My Title
Ballerina Cotton Princess I be their Idle
I am The Brown Swan Lake
The Dancer they Love to Hate
I have No Gates for they have abandoned me
No One in this valley of Dry Bones to Protect me
In the Cotton I land Softly
No Inspiration but from the S-O-N
Shoo Bird Dont bother me while I'm Dancing for all the deceased Mammies and Pappies
My Brother use to Beat a tuneful Bucket while playing his Mouth Organ
Now Silence Has Begun Because he was Hung and he became Strange fruit ripe for the pickin
I still Hum his Tunes though, My Memory Stands Strong as a weepin willow swaying and waving at me in the wind
Branches hang Low Because she has no Soul
Paint My Face White Like them Petty folks that sang without blues notes
Shug Bring Yoself in Now
Time Fo Dinner
Did you Not here that Cock Crow
By Fay Ealy 2017
Art By Margaret Bowland


cotton.jpg - 49kB




pheromones
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