You are currently browsing the daily archive for February 1st, 2007.
My ancestors’
blood layered
and filtered
.
Down through
worms, grubs,
and roots.
.
Became a
consort of
lichen and dark
things.
.
Became a night
companion of
the dreaded
.
That creep and
crawl, dormant
and silenced.
.
Go down to where
my forefathers’
.
Blood trickled
with
knowledge;
Betrayed and
blackened.
Where their
.
Bodies, left
hanging
beneath
.
Carnivorous
skies,
remembered,
.
In death those
last blood
thirsty
.
Cries; without
lips, teeth or
tongue,
.
That is where
their blood will
speak
.
.
Celebrate Black History Month. Read more poems by Alice Parris and hear her vocal tribute to Dinah Washington.
on the first day
of Black History Month, I saw
.
a dusting of snow. A single deer
ran across my yard, heading south
.
in a perfection of nature-in-winter.
The temperature was in the high 20s,
.
but the gray sky refused to fulfill
its deep promise, sending instead
.
a weather non-event. I looked to
Ezra Jack Keats for The Snowy Day.
.
.
Ezra Jack Keats crossed social boundaries by being the first American picture-book maker to give the black child a central place in children’s literature. He won the Caldecott Award in 1963 for his children’s book The Snowy Day. Read his story here.
.
Conrtary to what some people believe, there have always been a few (white) people who have struggled with African Americans for freedom and equality. Ezra Jack Keats was one of these people.
Recent Comments