Awaking

Awaking is moving away from bliss
Sleeping on dreams of not awaking.
City drags itself awake on subways,
An old black poet’s poetry awaking.

Here are no subways to awake a sun
Just cattle filled roads swishing tails
Late night drivers bleary with sleep,
An old brown poet’s poem awaking.

(Referring to Maya Angelow’s poem Awaking in New York)