My North Star

Miles and miles of melanin midnight sky

Yesterdays’ nights daydream about her.

Queen of the Mid-Morning Star.

Nine nights. Ninety-nine million steps nearer to North

And her Naked Negro Shade.

Orion’s nighttime lover.

Lonely. Lamentingly longs for Freedom.

Remembering their secrets…

Remembering their resilience…

Remembering…

Ten Thousand whispers

Each effortlessly echoing

Frederick Douglass’s wise whispering words

Wet with the Blood ink of Liberation.

They fly below the storm.

Ten Thousand side-eye slants

Saw Harriet secretly slip silently.

Quilts on trees. Quilts on fences. 

Sing silently to the North Star.

Hundreds of hidden less words hiding in plain sight

See through history’s carefully cataract careless eyes.

Sunday’s sunset slides in after supper

Hiding crystal cache clouds in their eyes.

Time.  Time.

Time to Travel.

Down Deep

On the Underground Road of Rails

One Way along the North Star’s Cosmic Tracks

“You don’t need no ticket; you just get on board.”

Ancestral footprints fill your shoes with love and night visions.

Remembering. Remembering.

Real Human Heroes

Dead & Alive.

So steal “A” way.

Steal Away.

Steal any way.

Anyway

Home.