she understands me 

it is all blood and breaking, 

blood and breaking, the thing 

drops out of its box squalling 

into the light. they are both squealing, 

animal and cage. her bars lie wet, open

and empty and she has made herself again 

out of flesh out of dictionaries, 

she is always emptying and it is all 

the same wound the same blood the same breaking.

- Lucille Clifton

spring thought for thelma

someone who had her fingers

set for growing,

settles into garden.

if old desires linger

she will be going

flower soon. Pardon

her little blooms

whose blossoming was stunted

by rooms.

- Lucille Clifton