I see her face
when my lids surrender
to the limits
of this battered body
and it makes the cane ash sting
less in my throat.
She has fat brown cheeks
red satin ribbons
floating on fluffy plaits.
She hums, traaa-la-la-la-la,
so sweet
like a sugar in a plum.
She skips along a carpet
of flamboyant petals,
red like the rose apple she nibbles
on an already full belly.
Laughter like a bird song
no thick memory
whatsoever of who sent her
into this future
finally free.
Copyright © 2025 by Keisha-Gaye Anderson. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on June 5, 2025, by the Academy of American Poets.
