Makin’ Do (Part II)

A Collaborative Series With Tre L. Loadholt

(Florida archives. Ocoee Massacre. 1920)

soon, we must leave
our gods, will guide us gone
we’ve been a sea of longin’

movin’ waves and rushin’ shores
a people with no name
huntin’ for home

we got our lives,
we shuffle in wait — 
leavin’ is easy in our minds
no denial. no fear.

land waitin’, bathed in
the broken sun.
dressed in Sunday’s best,
evenin’ come for us

a new home lives
deep in the bellies
of a land we do not 
yet know, but
we will soon.

soon, we will leave
carrying our beginnings 
our ends stored in listless eyes
soil beneath our nails
decaying of rotten teeth
in the smoke of peace

soon, we must leave
colored arms embracin’
milk and honey where we lay
flesh and sin by dawn’s early light
lovin’ stead of believin’ 
we earned this lot in life.

like disciples, we wash each other’s feet
pray for our sons
sit at the throne of our eldermothers
search for our mothers
follow our fathers
crossing many rivers
leavin’ footprints in the sand

soon, we will leave.
this, is nothing we can’t shake.

soon can’t come
soon enough.
we pantin’ & preppin’
like we a catered meal.
bags packed, home locked
and sealed.
new land waitin’ for us,
gonna guide our
confused feet,
backs finally get a chance
to rest without someone
poppin’, pipin’, and plottin’
on their use.

they ask us to
stand still, get this here
picture made, gonna
tell some big folks
about us negroes with
land.
how ‘bout that?
they got gumption.
we don’t even smile.
why?
been useta them takin’
everything else, smile
too hard, they take that too!

but, we on our way
new land. new home.
soon done come.

our gods, will guide us…