Today’s Black History Month poet is James Baldwin.
No, I don’t feel death coming.
I feel death going:
having thrown up his hands,
for the moment.
I feel like I know him
better than I did.
Those arms held me,
for a while,
and, when we meet again,
there will be that secret knowledge
between us.
A ‘like’ for these kind of posts never feels right to me, even when they are insightful, satisfying.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I understand completely.
LikeLiked by 2 people