From All the Songs We Sing: Celebrating the 25th Anniversary of the Carolina African American Writers’ Collective, this poem explores how someone you love can breathe life into you, just as spring breathes life back into our world each year.
by Lenard D. Moore for Sonia Sanchez  | illustration by Jillian Ohl

your whole notes
wake the dormant trees
the wind’s breath

drums thump
pulsing of the heartsong
the opening sky

jazz and haiku
shake loose my skin
a dusting of pollen

insistent running
of the long river
you’re a cappella

my black hands
cupping the sunlight
jacuzzi bubbles

orange lilies bow
your noontime strut
up the sidewalk

rain long gone
I recite the syllables
of your language

evening walk
I catch your riff
in my voice