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african american poetry

haga a muchachos y las muchachas todavía van
ésos en el superior dicen que le conocen, tierra -- son mentirosos
nosotros que estaban parados
tiene usted el caminar visto a través de la aldea
contra la llama verde del espino-a'rbol
estoy parado en el tiempo gris frío
claro de luna profundo y blando
mejore que el granito
no puedo ahora decirle
del sol ni de estrellas
soy el viento que duda
entre las montañas vagué

 



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