This is a “Poem of the Day” feature piece

Can’t I be found in the dew-soaked grass
Of my own open plains
Wildflowers and yellow roses
Stretched as far as the horizon
Sun gleaming on my black arms
And big, country house
Not a lynched body
Hung from the low branches of a poplar tree
Or blooded fields of cotton
Drying the soil of all its life

Can’t I live in the big city—a woman of red stained lips
And elegant dresses, fur wrapped around my shoulders
Lace my thighs
With a flute of champagne in my hands
Cus I’ve not a care in the world
Not a slain body to tend to
A bullet hole in the head of some
Black girl daring to be Black
Can’t my city be up and coming
Not gutted and left to rot on some
Outer state freeway

 © Ama Akoto (2018)

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