Kinyaa Luka, Smith College, Northampton, Massachusetts

To be hopeful, distinctive kindling,

Of rich black earth— this vessel mold for sound.

A panting breath of breeze and dust bearing,

This lisping bloom of dazzling leaf buds bound;

They play the flute song strewn of collectiveness.

A black and languid body hopeful, still.

The limp and haggard body of keen oneness—

A garden rhythmic black blanketing will,

Not caring whether morning comes with motion.

They drench the earth of sweet mourn-less splendor;

The collective dazzling without a notion

And stirring under the weights of faint stupor.

A wind amongst trees and earth’s dressed chance,

To be of breathful blackness- watchful trance.

The collective dazzling without a notion

And stirring under the weights of faint stupor.

A wind amongst trees and earth’s dressed chance,

To be of breathful blackness- watchful trance