You came from women who sat out on their porches
gazing at constellations of Pegasus and Orion.
Women comfortable in the heavens, made
Earth-bound by children and wayward men.
To see a new thing happening. Who is that heifer?
One girl child painting, writing stories and poems,
scared everyone by pointing to a different future.
You were big-boned, wide hip, smart as you want to be.
Did the traditional job at the post office, nonprofits.
Wore big Ankara style pants and men’s hats too.
Blues woman’s song lighting up a room, like that
time we read poems at the Venus Hottentot conference.
Your voice an anarchy of rage, mountain of blues and hope.
To hear what you were really saying commanded courage.
Your home made; badass, Coptic stitched books bound with beads.
Such joy etched into every page your awl touched.
Your swerve growing from blue collar to academy,
to become a scholar in such a brief breath space.
Lived too long in Missouri, too far away from folk
both gave and took your heart from you.
Will miss you walking ahead, brilliant, ablaze in the fields of life.
