For Ebony
i hear your voice
as a raised key melody
calling for deep strings
of cool breathing
i see your face
as a nursery for pleasures
and a front porch for always understandings
at once
i watch your hands
like a metaphysical
flashing light of
dottedn highway instructions
or an invisible piano
made grand
i think that if
i could paint
at all
i could draw you from memory
sketch your outline accidentally
because knowing you
is weaved through creation
in my soul
*******
Ebony is more than a poet/performer. Ebony is a movement.
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