On Meeting Ms. Giovanni

We
glanced
at each
other
like
we
secretly knew
about
the
days
of hop-scotch,
Mason jars,
and ketchup
sandwiches;
yes, the hair
like
mop boards,
and skin
like the
greyed-out
Sahara,
and oh my,
the tingle
of knowing
cousin knot-head
and little
Ray Ray,
or the
sister down
the way
that sold
flip-flops
for
two
and three
dollars coins.

Yes, she knew
about
the days
that called
us to roost
by
the streetlight,
or the
village that
raised
me to be
a Man;
or even
the noise
of the
hustle
that lured
me on
the
regular.

Yes, those
days lingered
on
like
the pillow sheets
in between
my hands
and your
lips,
but when
I met
Ms. Giovanni,
I saw
poetry
on her
skin
quietly
escaping like
musical notes
on a sheet
of music
that began
in four
part harmony,
but
left me
in pain
for a
symphony
of duets.

M.C. Davis

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “On Meeting Ms. Giovanni

  1. ahhh- there it is. smooth… but we made mayonnaise sandwhiches, we must live in different parts of the country!!! 🙂 cindy

  2. and the days of has been,
    have become,
    days that are,

    i love how you capture a moment, a thought, a piece of something left behind so effortlessly~

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s