His posture From so many years Holding his robe with one hand Is odd. His gait

My desire is always the same; wherever Life deposits me: I want to stick my toe & soon my whole body

I have a friend who is turning gray, not just her hair, and I do not know why this is so.

Remember When we ended It all —for a weekend— & how

When you thought me poor, my poverty was shaming. When blackness was unwelcome we found it best that I stay home.

When the people have won a victory whether small or large do you ever wonder

How can Humanity look the deer in the face? How can I,

To change the world enough you must cease to be afraid of the poor. We experience your fear as the lea… humiliations; in the past

With your unknown to me Odd magic You came To me:

I said to Poetry:"I’m finished with you." Having to almost die before some wierd light comes creeping through