I was asleep...sometime before dawn,
Then woke awfully cold...
Remembering dreaming...
(get out of the woods, get out of the
dark, get out of the night...)
That a voice called my name.
Over and over. My mother's voice.
So sweet, so sad, lonely...
(get out of the dark, get out of the night...)
'Did ya ansuh dat voice? Yo muther...
Did ya ansuh? Did ya? '
(get out of the night...)
'No. I was afraid. Why should I be
Afraid to...why be afraid of
My mother's voice? '
(you're out of the night...step up to the door
And bid it 'Open...open.')
'Oh Seet Baby Christ, chile!
You's lucky. Ole folk say dream
Voices a'callin
Are death...fotelling.
Yo death.
Lawd, girl. Sumpin' tain't right.
Ansuh none dem voices.
Ya gots to 'memba...
Yo mama's funeral
Was yestuhday.
Very powerful and evocative. You are indeed a poet worthy of the name. As always, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your Wizard of Oz reference in the title is brilliant. A wonderful door into your dreaming. Ironically I too dreamed of my mother this morning and still feel its echoes as I read this. You have certainly captured the surrealist tension of the dream state and your deeply layered poem is rich with intrigue and drama. Love your facility with dialect too. love, Allie xxxx