EAST 149TH STREET (SYMPHONY FOR A BLACK GIRL) sitting too long
skinny cinnamon burnt legs
cramped, Momma’s thigh
suctioned your ear
relief was turning your head
a new view of the television

but nothing was better than
matching candy-colored beads
symmetrical cornrows
braids swinging rhythmically
aluminum sneaking its shine
through the hair’s woven layers

and the freedom of skipping
on sidewalks, blacktopped driveways,
running round backyards, listening
to the beads clanging kiss
the crescendo then whispering — this
music celebrating the movement of you

Question: See Picture