Genes Of A Generation
I walk around the puddle in this rain
My mother walked and looked in the
rain the same
I saw my face and then I saw many
The same yet different races
All looked like me ..or so I keep my
The same dreaming and feeling and
hurting and bleeding.
I circled the rain just the same as
those who came before and just the
We shared names for us women who walk circles around the rain..
I think it was...
Poor,sore, mother to blame..
But we all dreamed free and beautiful
walking around the quite rain.
Share This Poem