We never look at each other
or we'd see
the kindred ties that bind.
Eyes that have seen vast kindgoms,
now have no sight.
Ears that heard
the mighty voice of the heavens
now, no longer hear.
Legs strong and supple
once ran as village messengers,
now stilled by lack of mission.
Bodies, beautiful, rhythmic
bending like branches in the wind
now sag and drag
spirits drained dry.
Author's Note: I wrote this piece after observing
how we seem to always look down or away when we
happen to run into on another on the street
or in stores and such. I watched from the side
as many Black men, women, old and young,
just passed each other by without even a "Hey"