waiting on the mayflower, iii. march 1770 (excerpt)
that night, crispus attucks
dreamed. how he’d attacked
his would-be master and fled
in wild-eyed search of self-
determination. discarded
virginia on the run and ran
out of breath in salt-scented
boston. found there, if not
freedom, fearlessness. a belief
in himself that racked things
with the uncontrolled power
of the muscular atlantic, power
to cradle, to capsize. awoke
angry again at the planter
who’d taken him for a mule
or a machine. had shouldered
a chip the size of concord
by the time the redcoat dared
to dare him. died wishing he’d
amassed such revolutionary
ire in virginia. died dreaming
great britain was the enemy.
Hello Friends,
Today’s re-imagining of American Revolutionary War hero Crispus Attucks comes to us courtesy of Evie Shockley in her 2006 collection half-red sea.
To learn more about National Poetry Month, or to subscribe to a more official-like Poem-a-Day list, visit www.poets.org.
Enjoy.
Ellen