She Came Late to Writing by Davi Walders

She came late, her wheelchair hooked
to a Critikon, her smile still slightly there,
a bright red bandana tight around her head.
She wanted to talk about poems and poets.
She did not wish to talk about her family
in Africa, about her sweats, or being ill.

Maya Angelou she wanted to read, so we read.
Marge Piercy she wanted to read, so we read.
We did not talk about her family in Africa,
her sweats, or her illness. She wanted
to hear sounds of savannahs, rhythms
of rivers, and to write like the poets she loved.

So she wrote, shaping a world far away
from her twenty-one years, words welling
up from desire and deprivation,
from other poets who whispered to her
through the night. We did not talk about
her family in Africa, her sweats, or illness.

The last time I saw her, she was surrounded
by her family from Africa, her poems
on her cool blanket and bedside table,
smiling that broad smile, as though she had
just heard a favorite line of a favorite poem
and was in deep conversation with poets she loved.

From: https://aumag.org/2016/07/13/she-came-late-to-writing-poetry-by-davi-walders/

Date: 2016

By: Davi Walders (19??- )

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One Comment to “She Came Late to Writing by Davi Walders”

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