Tuesday, March 1, 2011

House of the Beloved

. . . one day I was tired and hungry I must have walked across New Orleans
in a daze, not seeing with my eyes but only looking inside as far as I could,
stumbling sometimes and like to have fallen in the water when I was near,
but I kept my balance and went wherever my feet took me, I wanted to be
alive, finally, alive . . . and where do you go to be alive but to the bayou,
and there was the old house abandoned since before I’d been born, I was six,
my mama was working the charms with someone, I don’t know them then,
I’m too young, and inside the house were the same rays of light shining down
through the dust dancing by the window, and I slept. I woke at dark,
that’s when I heard the sound I have heard so many times since then,
I already told you about being sixteen when they came and not long after
I was first with a man. Mostly I was in love with this house. The creatures
living there were my lovers. The charms mean nothing if you can’t love
as strong as you can whatever you find to love and keep on loving well . . .

(2 March 2011)

copyright 2011 by Floyce Alexander

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