Saturday, November 26
A SIREN PATCH OF INDIGO Listen: though we swell as rampant woodland or riverbank blossoms (Baptisia australis) in your tensile world, as commonplace beauty & reachable remedy, as soothing eyewash for the Osage, hardy dye for the Cherokee, quiet as it's kept, we're more akin to clearing & hillside way-showers, offhand griots quietly reminding you the punishing rows, the grim nightworld of the Middle Passage was never your true province; even in appalling chains, the light of your integrity, your inmost wonder still encircled you, resolute, inviolate. Always recall, dear progeny of Sea Island slaves, in galling dearth or in Juneteenth glory, our deep, annealing, sacramental blue belongs to you. (Cyrus Cassells)