Song Poured Out

In memory of Maya Angelou

When Mrs. Flowers poured out

Tale Of Two Cities and cold lemonade

for little Maya that summer afternoon,

she watered the miracle

of rose seed, coaxed the phenomenal

out of silent minerals, beckoned

the beautiful from the dust of abuse.

She rooted

the soul of a girl

in the soil of courage,

tended the fledgling spirit

destined to rise and soar

on tawny wings of words,

called to wrap the clouds

with bows of color,

to clear the smog

with angel air,

to quench parched souls

with her voice and verses,

to pulsate the beat

of golden life,

intrinsic in

you and me.

Ms. Angelou,

you poured out

on my starless night,

a startling,

sun-drenched song.