The Black Outside

Spirit: —I have heard the spirituals

Frederick heard: —In those dense old woods: —

Moving: —Though not knowing it: —Toward you

Without a mother’s hand covering his hand

Without a beginning: —Those wild notes: —

I have heard them, Spirit: —Reaching: —

Through time toward me, out of a sister’s mouth

From the pulpit on Sunday morning

A voice stretching: —Almost violently: —

Stretching again even: —Like a whine: —A half step more

Up to those sharp notes beyond: —Pain’s threshold: —

I have seen the fugitive sweat bead slipping

Down the singer’s forehead: —Freedom

In those wild songs first sung to a congregation

Of trees: —First audience, first applause: —

That comforted a soul hiding

In those lonely woods: —Light dappled glory: —

Nearly: —Thank you, Spirit: —I have heard them

The spirituals in Douglass’ sentences

Which he turned into a portal: —

Which he entered in September

Somewhere in Baltimore

And stepped out of: —Days later: —

Delivering us closer to Glory: —

Between the trees: —Like a wild song: —He moved: —

Over the water: —He walked: —He flew: —

O Beloved Beloved Be

Loved Closer

To Glory: —O Glory: —