To deeper melancholy buried in soft soil of hums to self*

To deeper melancholy buried in soft soil of hums to self
© 2011 by lex

Hum, rock
Hum, rock, hum
Hum, walk, stir pot
Hum, sit
Hum, rock
Hum, rock, hum

What words vibrate against those pursed lips
and clenched teeth

Hum, rock

What pain unspoken have you carried to silver days
of great-grands and matriarch

Hum, rock

What stories untold are swallowed back down
trying in vain to push past those lips

Hum, rock

What life has had such little safe space that
stories are no longer words but have transformed
into sad vibrations that rock your body in familiar rhythm

Hum, rock

How many have failed you

Hum, rock

How many nights have you cried
yourself to sleep

Hum, rock

How many of your children have you seen
hurt and been unable to save them

Hum, rock

How many times have you chosen your children
above your own dignity

Hum, rock

What was that like for you
I ask
Too late

Hum, rock.

*The title of this poem derives from a line in “Aunt Sarah’s Tears” by Farah Lawal.
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