Rest Stop
(for Maje Adams)

When given the opportunity to connect with  
No  
To be welcomed back into your  
Home  
No  
Family? 
Do you take it? 
// 
You reached out your hand and I took it. It felt too good —I pull away almost immediately 
I look behind me seeing the ash of my life I burned  
and I begin to cry 
Through the tears I see you next to me  
Still here  
Still—
Here  
Tears tear through my body and we sit down on the bench. You hold me close  
Rest here as long as you need, im here and im not leaving, but you need me to promise that you
will not go back. You made it too far
Everything in my body says to turn back to the life I knew.  
I look deep into your eyes, and my voice shakes as I whisper ok, I promise  
You do not let go as I watch the life I thought I knew disappear before my eyes.

Copyright © 2024 by Chandler Peters-Durose. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on August 9, 2024, by the Academy of American Poets. 

Blight

I have seen a lovely thing
Stark before a whip of weather:
The tree that was so wistful after spring
Beating barren twigs together.

The birds that came there one by one.
The sensuous leaves that used to sway
And whisper there at night, all are gone,
Each has vanished in its way.


And this whip is on my heart;
There is no sound that it allows,
No little song that I may start
But I hear the beating of dead boughs.

From The Book of American Negro Poetry (Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1922), edited by James Weldon Johnson. This poem is in the public domain.