Soul

I stopped the short story mid-sentence,

I had to jot you down,

My internal reverence for rhythm,

Makes poems dance in me

without even hearing a sound.

 

See, we do those unexplainable things,

Us daughters of African shores,

We are conduits of spirit,

In dance,

In song,

In word,

In love,

And more.

Copyright © 2013 Nichelle Calhoun

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2 thoughts on “Soul

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