Tags » Gwendolyn Brooks
a song in the front yard
I’ve stayed in the front yard all my life.
I want a peek at the back
Where it’s rough and untended and hungry weed grows. 172 more words
The coinciding of the anniversary (the golden one, though it feels strange to call it that) of the March in Selma, Alabama with yet another news report beginning, “A white police officer shot an unarmed African American male” prompted considerable comment over the past week, and a renewal of the protests that “Black Lives Matter.” It’s an important rallying cry, but not a new one—at least not ideologically. 974 more words
“Very early in life I became fascinated
with the wonders language can achieve.
And I began playing with words.”