PraiseSong for Annie Allen

Before you

There was none so high

Minded,

So elegantly eloquent.

You were high standing

Fruit.

The story of an original,

Ordinary Black girl

Turned woman

Yet

More like you,

Extraordinary.

You turned to the mirror

And the mirror

Wept

At such loveliness

It could not see

Itself.

The singers sang

Out of range

To hear your cry.

A poem obedient

To Heaven.

You asked questions

Of the fallen fields

And the tallest flowers.

You waited for love

And wilted at disappointment,

Then danced in memories.

Who would mother the children?

You loved the children.

You, Annie Allen, were good

At heart. Superb in soul.

Worthy of memory.

Worthy

Of memory.

Deserving

Of reward.