Sunday, January 11, 2015

For Nikki

I thought of Nikki this morning
in church,
when she suddenly appeared.
"My daughter," I laughed,
giving her a hug.
Nikki's back and that is good.

I think of the other Nikki's who
have been part of my life.
A beloved tabby,
and the poet Nikki Giovanni,
who feels like a mother to me
can take even the most horrible moment,
like 911,
and bring meaning to it.

Her childhood memories take
me back to Knoxville, Tennessee,
and to Virginia,
to church picnics,
and jamborees, gospel
sings and bluegrass
and the long days of summer,

shimmering with hope and promise.

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