Kendall A. Bell - Poet, Curmudgeon.

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dancer (for selma)

You accepted the fate of the noose.
Its threads
bristling against your neck.
The hood was too much.
You needed to breathe.

The sacrifice was fine with you.
You would be able to spare your son
your fate.

Like the money you squirreled away,
by someone you trusted,
your sight was stolen.
Like your dreams of dancing.

Your movements were fluid in your head.

The bottom dropped out quickly.
Did you feel anything?

The truth of your hardships,
buried with you.
You left singing.

 

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