Here is a sample of the poetry from my sixth and latest book of poetry, The Words That Breathe:
"Blooming"
In the brown, blooming cornea
of her eyes, I see fire.
Despite her life-less,
forgotten locks, the
fire I see lights a
beauty which will never
be extinguished.
Her dress is shabby;
her shoes are worn;
but the young child she walks
wears a carefully pressed
shirt and matching shorts,
all like new.
He is her proud crowning
glory. A second generation—
a second chance
at life.
of her eyes, I see fire.
Despite her life-less,
forgotten locks, the
fire I see lights a
beauty which will never
be extinguished.
Her dress is shabby;
her shoes are worn;
but the young child she walks
wears a carefully pressed
shirt and matching shorts,
all like new.
He is her proud crowning
glory. A second generation—
a second chance
at life.
----------------------------
"Edifice"
She is tough,
like the brown skin
weathering time
over her face.
The clothes she wears
are hand-me-downs,
right down to the
over-sized sneakers
adorning her feet.
Her hair is
short,
cropped,
natural,
and respectful.
Her eyes, too, are hand-me-
downs,
from her father, and
his father before him.
like the brown skin
weathering time
over her face.
The clothes she wears
are hand-me-downs,
right down to the
over-sized sneakers
adorning her feet.
Her hair is
short,
cropped,
natural,
and respectful.
Her eyes, too, are hand-me-
downs,
from her father, and
his father before him.
Long ago, she left her
father’s side to seek
new roads beyond
the church.
Now, grown prodigal,
her back curls and
her hair grays.
father’s side to seek
new roads beyond
the church.
Now, grown prodigal,
her back curls and
her hair grays.
But I see a story
in the way that
she chews fruit
and spits out the pit.
I hear a sage in her
easy words and quick
wit.
in the way that
she chews fruit
and spits out the pit.
I hear a sage in her
easy words and quick
wit.
She is an edifice
of the street—
reigning down
on the young—
preaching to
those keen enough
to listen.
of the street—
reigning down
on the young—
preaching to
those keen enough
to listen.
-------------------------
"Prodigal"
He has
known winters which
have
chilled him to the bone;
He has
known summers which have
blistered
his back; he has fallen
only to
stand again.
Manifold
curses and blessings
have
marked his path.
He, who
left prodigal,
has
returned without vengeance,
but with
love—affection for
family
and neighbor.
He has
known other worlds
and yet
has returned, with
a love
rooted in his beginnings.
The small
family he nurtures
is a
pride and joy to broader
family
and community. The
prodigal
son has returned,
knowing
all the while that
he was
loved.
-------------------------
"Perfect Digits"
Perfect
digits,
all in a
row:
New
fingers
that will
feel
and know
Mama, Papa,
Grandmother
and
Grandfather;
uncles
and aunts,
sisters
and brothers.
How
perfect digits will
feel and
will know
the
certainty of love—
The
circumference of family.
-----------------------------
Click here for more information about my sixth book of poetry, The Words That Breathe.
Copyright © 2015 by January Nicole Wilson
