xxxxxxxx—for Nina Simone
There was candy in the sky
on her kind of day
as she glided smooth and shiny
like honey to the piano,
crooned from a belly simmering dark cocoa,
but then would turn like lightning,
spark the cold keys,
burn her anthem into ivory,
and deliver to us, yes,
the thickest pecan pie and sweetest tea
that we’d sip and find laced
with thunder.
Grey Sparrow Journal 