Comin’ up there was a field by mah gran’pa’s house that I used to run away to at times. It wasn’t nothing too big or too special. In fact, I think it’s condos now and sometimes mah ma would say that it used to be a place for gas pumps. But for me it was a field with a shitty wire fence going around all four sies and grass taking back all the space folk laid concrete on top of. And I named it “Forever” even though it stopped and started bout two houses wide. And it was mah little piece of somethin’.
I would go lay there away from, but not passed people screaming lives and them that made me mad- id lay all night sometimes. And I’d watch mah ma search round the block for me with worry in her eyes. My lips curled into a grin thinking on how it felt good to momentarily be important to her- cause being looked for meant a kind of importance that I didn’t have at other times.
There’d also be dream in my field of big lives and sweet thoughts. Some like coming home to folk laughing- holding even- maybe slow dancing. And id smile knowing that home was important and carved out of love. Black life, whatever it is/ was and however hard it maybe need not hurt here cause togetherness is gift enough.
When flowers appeared I’d close mah eyes to smell better and cast spells to hold fragrance- keep beauty and only then, once the sun found me again, could I leave, strong enough to cross the street, past the shitty wire fence and go home.