Gathas
Recycled Woman arrives along with all the seasons Arrives with freshness and the beauty of spring Arrives with the old, yellow leaves in autumn Arrives in the season of ice and freezing rain She’s present everywhere Along the dirt roads Along the plains In the forgotten houses Between the lines of Gathas* Across the fire temples In the temples, mosques, churches With frozen dreams Recycled Woman knows that life is like The morning dew sitting on the green leaves So brief, so fragile She learned that everywhere far or near In the troubled roads of Harlem Next to the green beauty of...
Read More