Lucille Clifton Died
And so I will never get the chance to meet her and tell how she wrote about parts of me in her poems that I did not know existed until I read her work.
One of my favorite poems and bio:
Telling Our Stories Written by Lucille Clifton
The fox came every evening
to my door asking for nothing.
my fear trapped me inside,
hoping to dismiss her but
she sat till morning, waiting.
At dawn we would, each of us,
rise from our haunches,
look through the glass
then walk away.
Did she gather her village around
her and sing of the hairless moon face,
the trembling snout,
the ignorant eyes?
Child, i tell you now it was not
the animal blood i was hiding from,
it was the poet in her,
the poet and the terrible stories
she could tell.
http://www.afropoets.net/lucilleclifton.html
She will truly be missed. Lucille Clifton was a poet for the wonderful and mysterious common woman.
One of my favorite poems and bio:
Telling Our Stories Written by Lucille Clifton
The fox came every evening
to my door asking for nothing.
my fear trapped me inside,
hoping to dismiss her but
she sat till morning, waiting.
At dawn we would, each of us,
rise from our haunches,
look through the glass
then walk away.
Did she gather her village around
her and sing of the hairless moon face,
the trembling snout,
the ignorant eyes?
Child, i tell you now it was not
the animal blood i was hiding from,
it was the poet in her,
the poet and the terrible stories
she could tell.
http://www.afropoets.net/lucilleclifton.html
She will truly be missed. Lucille Clifton was a poet for the wonderful and mysterious common woman.
