HOMEWARD BOUND

Book draft complete,
Met with Ivey,
A living legend,
Artist extraordinaire,
Like sitting at the feet of
Van Gogh, Monet, Renoir,
Listening

Addendum: During my first trip to North Carolina in 2009, I met Ivey Hayes and his art, both of which resonated with my center. I saw that Ivey had captured the heart and soul of the African People in American, especially the African woman. At that time, Ivey and I agreed to collaborate on a book about his art and life. This piece was written in 2010, at the conclusion of my last visit to North Carolina. The book, Ivey Hayes: The Art of Living, is ready for publication and will be available in early 2012.

BRUNCH AT THE CAUSEWAY CAFE

Menu reads:
Good home cooking,
Breakfast all day,
Big fat biscuits,
Omelets with scallops, shrimp and grouper
Lunch,
Seafood, wrapped or sandwiched,
Gumbo,
Vegetable plates of okra, zucchini, fried-green tomatoes and more

Betty, wizened waitress,
Face tells she smoked too long.
"How big is a grouper," I asked?
"A red fish," she says. "He's a pretty big boy."
"She is too," I say.
Betty smiles.

Cat, short for Catherine,
High school senior,
Waiting tables,
Plans on college,
Maybe Wake Forest
Or, first,
A semester in Africa on mission trip.

"Africa's more fun," say I.
"College will always be there."

On exiting, feels like home.
"Be back later," I say.
Cat and Betty nod.

MIDDLE CHILD

My daughter,
Navajo woman,
Finished high school,
Works hard,
Then goes home to her Hispanic husband,
Wonderful parents,
To their four children,
Who are bright and beautiful,
With black hair,
Black-brown eyes,
Bilingual,
Full of life,
Next generation's blossoms

A BEAUTIFUL EVENING

My youngest son,
Handsome,
Gay,
Has fun playing drag queen,
Went to gay bar,
First time to see him perform,
Along with other lovelies,
Participated in the fun,
Tipped the dancers,
Introduced as Nicole's mother,
By my son's drag-queen mother,
Preparing to leave,
My son was obviously pleased by my presence.
Many others, with unfamiliar faces, hugged me.
The club owner, with tears in his eyes, thanked me for coming.
Then, I knew I had mothered and approved of them all.

HUMANITY

Ensconced in mall recliner - Demo, Dane Designs - I watch.
High-heeled woman struts in red, seeking to be chic.
Well-dressed man, with grey goatee, descends on escalator,
His noble demeanor slips as he carries sacks of food.
Many older, waddling women bear similar, plain descriptions.
Young, perky mothers carry babies.
With solicitude and care, an elderly woman, in red-plaid slacks, seats her feeble husband in nearby chair and heads off on mission.
Punked-up adolescent looking "cool" and shouting, "Who am I?"
Refreshingly wholesome, teenage girl pens job application.
Men, women and children walk to and fro.
Some erect, with strong strides, seemingly confident in their worldly niche.
Others, lost in life's maze, slouch in body and soul.
Most are in between, with glimpses of peace and clarity,
But more often than not, they put one foot in front of the other,
Hoping it treads on solid ground.

Upon rising, I join the walk.
To and fro we go, marching humanity.