Wednesday Poem


I replaced the candle holder on my wall

with a painting by an artist unknown,
brought back by my wife from Habana,
of a woman with jug upon her shoulder –
I call her Waterwoman. She reminds me
of my mother and the women of her era,
how they would carry a bucket brim-full
on their heads from the river without
spilling one single drop of water. Such
natural grace and poise as of a gazelle;
Africa, across ocean, soft-wired in DNA;
each one a
beauty, each one a queen,
each one a beauty queen, like Oshun,
flowing, fluid, each one a waterwoman.

by G. Newton V. Chance, ©2013