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by Wanda Coleman
after Lowell our mothers wrung1 hell and hardtack from row and boll. fenced others' gardens with bones of lovers. embarking2 from Africa in chains reluctant pilgrims stolen by Jehovah's light planted here the bitter seed of blight3 and here eternal torches mark the shame of Moloch's mansions4 built in slavery's name. our hungered eyes do see/refuse the dark illuminate5 the blood-soaked steps of each historic gain. a yearning yearning to avenge the raping of the womb from which we spring 点击  收听单词发音
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