after Terrance Hayes’s lines:
sing until our blood is jazz,
we swing from June to June
Our skin is too tight. We need to sing,
our spirits folded into cranes, until
we can no longer stop our
words from spilling like blood,
each drop telling a truth that is
unfolded, unplanned, trumpeted jazz.
As our inner life spirals outward, we
bleed our truths, on an upswing,
remembering poet-words from
Brooks to Hayes, in beats of hot June
nights, city pulses, country hums, to
crescendo every reckless, starry June.
Copyright 2017 Brenda Davis Harsham
Notes: Golden shovel poems pay homage to the work of other poets, yet bring something new from the borrowed words. From their birth, these poems shed new light in the dark places of our hearts. My first golden shovel poem is a tribute to the first written by Terrance Hayes, who made speaking truth look easy. Want to try your own? You take each word from an excerpt/quote of your choice and use it to end each line of a poem, making sure to give credit.