The trouble is, you can never take That flower from Billie's hair. She is always walking too fast and try as we might, there's no talking her into slowing. Don't go down into that basement, we'd like to scream. What will it take to bargain her blues, To retire that term when it comes to her? But the grain and the cigarettes, the narcs and the fancy-dressed boys, the sediment in her throat. That's the soil those petals spring from, Like a fist, if a fist could sing.
Copyright © 2011 by Cornelius Eady. Used with permission of the author.
Born in 1954, in Rochester, New York, Cornelius Eady is the co-founder of Cave Canem, a nonprofit organization serving black poets
Date Published: 2011-12-01
Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/gardenia