we bring the black
with us from our
neighborhoods
we bring the music
of our skin and bones
and the moving ripples
traced across our bellies
we bring it back
we bring it front
we bring it black
in the Philippines
in the mall
in the line
a black man’s
eyes meet mine
some sort of recognition
closes the gap between
us
waiting to get an
ice cream cone,
he says he’s from
the Bahamas
his daughter is
in his arms, her
head rests on his
shoulders
she smiles her
father’s smile as
he tells me he is
with a church
spreading what ever
it is that it
spreads
and we are in
the Philippines
and my blood
is black too,
like my mother
like my great grandmother
and grandfather
and we bring
the black with
us, from the Bahamas,
from Frisco
it comes out
and goes back in
and comes out
and goes back in
and comes out
breathing
(c) 2017 Tony Robles
