ALSO

I've heard her name before, but I hadn't actually read any of her poetry until today. When my poetry workshop teacher asked me if we knew he she was, I knew it wouldn't exactly have been appropriate for me to say, "Well, I know she's black."  so i didn't raise my hand. But yes, Lucille Clifton passed away recently apparently after surviving cancer and living through the deaths of two of her children. Yes, you can pause and try to breathe after even beginning to try to process that. (and i'm kind of creeped out that I've started to write on this blog expressly speaking to an audience when i originally thought I'd only be talking to myself on the internet as strange as that sounds). But yes, one of the poems we read today in light of that was "Sorrows."

beautiful, to say the least. and, I'm going to challenge myself to make sure at some point I pick up at least one of her books and really take some time with it.(revision: after reading some of her literary bio, one seems almost deplorable)

sorrows

by Lucille Clifton

who would believe them winged

who would believe they could be

beautiful         who would believe

they could fall so in love with mortals

that they would attach themselves

as scars attach and ride the skin

sometimes we hear them in our dreams

rattling their skulls         clicking their bony fingers

envying our crackling hair

our spice filled flesh

they have heard me beseeching

as I whispered into my own

cupped hands       enough not me again

enough       but who can distinguish

one human voice   

amid such choruses of   desire

(accessed from here: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poem.html?id=180005 )

more on life and influence here:
http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/books/2010/02/remembering-lucille-clifton.html