lucille clifton with barrier reef anemones
the earth is a living thing
by lucille clifton
is a black shambling bear
ruffling its wild back and tossing
mountains into the sea
is a black hawk circling
the burying ground circling the bones
picked clean and discarded
is a fish black blind in the belly of water
is a diamond blind in the black belly of coal
is a black and living thing
is a favorite child
of the universe
feel her rolling her hand
in its kinky hair
feel her brushing it clean
from The Book of Light by Lucille Clifton, Copper Canyon Press, 1993.
sorrows
by lucille clifton
who would believe them winged
who would believe they could be
beautiful who would believe
they could fall so in love with mortals
that they would attach themselves
as scars attach and ride the skin
sometimes we hear them in our dreams
rattling their skulls clicking their bony fingers
envying our crackling hair
our spice filled flesh
they have heard me beseeching
as I whispered into my own
cupped hands enough not me again
enough but who can distinguish
one human voice
amid such choruses of desire
from Voices, BOA Editions, Ltd, 2009.
Creative Invitations
write without punctuation or capitalization, a la lucille clifton. or, draw or dance this.
what does it feel like when the universe touches you?
when are you a favorite child?
what or who do you allow to brush you clean?
what wildness have you seen?
what sorrow hangs on, crackling?
what distinguishes one voice among the chorus?