In Hindsight: A Thank You (for Yusef Komunyaaka)
Thank you for your drooping branches,
Graying at the stems and leaves splaying
Between me & a race soldier’s bullet.
I never knew what made the wind
Break so forcefully – left and unfettered,
Swaying the grass in unison like a hard jazz step,
Seconds before the next Martyr’s lament
Whisked in quarter time to the silent pistol’s snap.
Some kind ghost always followed,
Saying which foot deserved what step and
At what time – one before the other, left to right,
Right to left, never both planted in place
Thanks for swatting away the intent:
That hard, gliding metal puncturing
Against the anarchy of sunlight.
I was instantly back in West Oakland
Wrapped in a woman’s sweet colors,
The ends of dark tendrils lightly gripping our backs
To be shattered by the the glow of daylight
When I reached up and brushed away
The branch from my eyes.
Thanks for the weathered crimson leaf
That pointed to the gleaming alloy
Mediating how it is to break
Like haze over tidepools,
As I slow-danced a deadly
sway with broken gods.
What made me peek the honeybee
Dangling on a single tightrope,
Flapping wings into futility,
Like time-dated propulsion,
Is beyond me. Perhaps the moon
Grew weary of the glistening bones
Laying topside as ritual; just maybe
The moon simply knows better.
Again, thank you for another day
Past death’s promenade blasting
Through a time warp. I’m still faltering
Within its silence. And I don’t know
Why the sunlight touched the stainless steel,
Why something stood among those lost leaves
And moved when I moved.