I Look For You

I look for you among the echoes of yesterday; easy laughter drifting across oceans, tickling ears, finding ancient memory. Thorn bush binding wooden limbs erect; arms linked, pounding our breast, remembering the strength it took to stand tall. Ancestral voices pleading to stomp earth, push our chests to the orange sky— honoring the blood that binds the diaspora. Tongues snap out: mother tongues, spirit leading. Ankles adorned with bangles; cracked fingernails stripping cassava from stem under the brutal sun. Oh, my sister, we are one. We hear the cries ululating through the night, silencing errant chatter, piercing revelries, opening the canal to claim our right to go home. Goodbye, my sister. I will still look for you in the communal circle, pointed sticks alight, crackling, breaking the dark— stories being handed to younger ears, listening to the growing hum of pride.

"I’m leaving this here not as a demand for your time, but as a map back to where I’ll always wish you the best. Take care, sister."