I Am I, 1st Hour

1st Hour  https://thepoetrymarathon.com/blog/seventhsolstise/i-am-i/

I Am I

I Am I.

The evenings and the mornings,
Sunday - the first day,

I am the first fruits,

Africa rooted,
the riches of glory...
Suffering suited
in darkness.

I tell my story,
I am black in light skin...
hope roped in chains 
of melanin - 
the Master Cylinder
of a rejected,
unprotected past.

I am present, past,
forever undisturbed
composition and positioned
among the diluted mixture
of whose child I am.

I am sweet, alagae syrup,
Black, white, red, brown
planted on fallow ground,
America I am...
broken and outspoken,
living a token life of

I know who I am...
Ann, Hanna, Anani, Ada,
in a strange land,
Brenda - Queen - blood from
the Motherland
Bright and shining star,
Seventh...perfect and entire,
wanting nothing but who
I am.

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