In this lingering light of a late winter against a coral covered sky.
I have passed forty-two age my mother was when she died.
Once so hot headed I strutted no, left home tearing
remnants of my childhood umbilicus to shreds as I rushed
into life wearing only the clothes on my back. Free, finally free!
Multicolored messenger bag hugging her hips twice the size of my own.
As I walk out of a movie a shadowy figure surges behind me
impatient with my relaxed pace ear buds blasting torn up jean wearing.
She is barely polite as she fidgets behind me for five floors.
I can feel her desire to run amongst crowds in the multiplex.
In this lingering light of a late winter against a coral covered sky.
Multicolored messenger bag hugging her hips twice the size of my own.
She lunges past down escalator steps to bound out the door free!
That giggling girl woman in the Indian, orange cotton top, watching me from afar.
I finally release her instead savor sweetness enjoy vastness of the view.
I envy her flying feet cascade of braids in the evening breeze.
Jacqueline Johnson is a multi-disciplined artist creating in both writing and fiber arts. She is the author of A Woman’s Season, on Main Street Rag Press and A Gathering of Mother Tongues, published by White Pine Press and is the winner of the Third Annual White Pine Press Poetry Award. Ms. Johnson has received awards from the New York Foundation of the Arts, the Middle Atlantic Writers Association’s Creative Writing Award in poetry, MacDowell Colony for the Arts and is a Cave Canem fellow. Recent publications include: Word Peace Journal, The Wide Shore: A Journal of Global Women’s Poetry, Fifth Wednesday Journal, Black Renaissance Noire, pluck! She is a graduate of New York University and the City University of New York. A native of Philadelphia, PA., she resides in Brooklyn, New York.