La femme de couleur

Borrowed mother’s voice,
To pay tribute.
My aria ricochets.

Have the dark clouds been banished?
Are you dreaming of delicious blackberries?
Has my song ransomed me?

A dutiful daughter,
I am a parody of an echo.

These legacy chains bind me,
silken sisterly knots,
stirring soup in cast iron pots
to feed the ‘strongmen, as they keep coming.’

Merely, a ‘mule of the world’
constructed by colonial circumstance
laboring, loving, enduring and dreaming.

Copyright by Sherley Jean-Pierre

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