Awaking In New York Poem by Maya Angelou
Awaking In New York
Curtains forcing their will
against the wind,
children sleep,
exchanging dreams with
seraphim. The city
drags itself awake on
subway straps; and
I, an alarm, awake as a
rumor of war,
lie stretching into dawn,
unasked and unheeded.
Can anyone say a bad word about Maya's writings, her heart, her soul? I do not think I would like to meet the person who could- they may be the monsters that wait in the wings of history
Well conceived and nicely crafted with artistic brilliance....
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12/2/2024 6:17:28 PM # 1.0.0
A lovely poem. i do not find appropriate word to praise