Before I begin posting work from many poets who haven’t appeared on this blog before, let’s start with this intricate gem by the magnificent writer and activist, June Jordan (1936-2002), who I just love so much.
Not looking now and then I find you here
not knowing where you are.
Talk to me. Tell me things I see
fill the table between us or surround
the precipice nobody dares to forget.
Talking takes time takes everything
sooner than I can forget the precipice
and speak to your being there
where I can hear you move no nearer
than you were standing on my hands
covered my eyes dreaming about music.