We were entwined in red rings 
Of blood and loneliness before 
The first snows fell
Before muddy rivers seeded clouds 
Above a virgin forest, and 
Men ran naked, blue and black 
Skinned into the warm embraces 
Of Sheba, Eve and Lilith.
I was your sister.

You left me to force strangers 
Into brother molds, exacting 
Taxations they never
Owed or could ever pay.

You fought to die, thinking 
In destruction lies the seed 
Of birth. You may be right.

I will remember silent walks in 
Southern woods and long talks 
In low voices
Shielding meaning from the big ears 
Of overcurious adults.

You may be right. 
Your slow return from
Regions of terror and bloody
Screams, races my heart.
I hear again the laughter 
Of children and see fireflies 
Bursting tiny explosions in 
An Arkansas twilight. 
Maya AngelouP«

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