i am running into a new year by Lucille Clifton
"it will be hard to let go / of what i said to myself / about myself / when i was sixteen and / twenty-six and thirty-six / even thirty-six"
Won’t You Celebrate With Me by Lucille Clifton
Hope is that stubborn thing inside us*—when I heard that today, I thought, how could one thing be so true? Two months ago I was staring at what was left of all of me. I was so exhausted to go on.
moonchild by Lucille Clifton
11:42 pm. Took a photo of the bone-coloured moon. Saw a tiny little star. I thought of the Little Prince. Ah, but I am a fox, still waiting to be tamed. moonchild Lucille Clifton whatever slid into my mother's room that late june
To My Last Period by Lucille Clifton
Because the year has come to an end, and I am sitting at my desk trying to reconcile the old with the new. Another beginning, starting today. But first, a proper farewell to the year that was: To My Last Period Lucille
Homage to My Hips by Lucille Clifton
Amen. Homage to My Hips Lucille Clifton these hips are big hips. they need space to move around in. they don't fit into little petty places. these hips are free hips. they don't like to be held back. these hips have never been enslaved, they go where they want to