What Contentment tastes like (poem)





I can hear a dove sing
in the tree outside my window
with sore muscles and tired eyes
I listen to the sound of my husband
shuffling through books he’d brought from home
muttering to himself about the wisdom of they
who’d left part of themselves for the world
to learn from.
My belly is full of lunch that I made
with no thoughts other than to fill a hungry space
happy to listen to the world outside my window
Last night, a storm blew through our town
with thunder the sound of cannon fire
and flashes of white, dangerous, and angry lightning
that illuminated the shadows of the witching hour
The rain sloshed heavy against the windows
and I – knowing he loved it – woke him to listen
and listen he did; grabbing a pillow and a blanket
he turned from my bed and laid down on the couch before two living room windows with the blinds drawn back
and I on the floor beneath him
Happily- he watched until his breath slowed
warm and protected in the midst of the gale
I waited
until at last the reigns were pulled back and the tempest
eased and shifted – I returned to my bed
Now, today, the sun warm once again I sit in the quiet
with the leftover taste of coffee on my tongue
my husband thumbing through tomes muttering to himself
I smile, knowing this is what contentment tastes like.

Summer ( The Second Sister) Poem



(Photo by: Diana Simumpande)



Summer sister
Brown skinned beauty
With a dress as green as the emerald isles
Steadily walks in grasses waist high and flowering
Her bosom as full as the clouds

Summer sister, African wise
Woman of the earth and mother to all
Eases the world in mid-afternoon slumbers
And thundershowers late at night

Mother of the longest Solstice
She tells Mary Mary quite contrary
How that garden’s supposed to grow
And prepares her fields for her red haired sister
When June fields begin to grow

But it’s with her the children laugh and play through
As the swim in rivers warmed by her touch
It’s her they watch coming over the hill from schoolhouse windows
The time of the year they love so much

Summer sister, Ebony darling
A laugh as deep as the tree roots grow
The most generous of the four sisters seasons
Dancing under the late summers moon glow