Until Home
after Toni Morrison
They found me near a
fallen tree. Pennsylvania
woods delivered this African.
I put on a dress to show them how I acted —
all gold crowns and marigold songs like
no man dared tarnish me.
I wore sackcloth like they asked. Too
proud, too satisfied. Close
my eyes as I whisper his
song. A solar wind brushes my face.
The center spirals out and up.
Now a new covering grows like
first Sunday’s dawn — a
gold light, an opening door.
