I came to you.

Years ago.

On the wheels of a wagon

That bore your father’s coffin.

And I am here, because you cared

About me.

When you could have let me wither away.

You gave me life.

Now it’s my turn…

A late bloom is better than none.

The expectation:

Corruption can’t stand.

Laziness either.

Spring from the dust

That has buried your ankles.

Make them live,

See the faces in the wood.

Bring them to life, with the power to move.

Every time you look at me.

You think of the girl…

You think of the time…

You think too much.

Capture the Red Flag

That Hannah left hanging,

And bring the claw hammer

To Katrina’s soggy head.

Bust through the Levee that holds you back.

They’re never made high enough anyway.

Pour into the Quarter of your mind

Where Zydeco lives,

And your Grandfathers thrived.

Use us

As your muses,

And we will enthuse you,

Because a late bloom

Is better than never.

And God knows we can use you.

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