Dead [Women] Poets Society Blog

Golden Shovel for My People by Bridget Minamore, after Margaret Walker

Updated: Jul 12

Golden Shovel for My People

by Bridget Minamore

after Margaret Walker

This is where it started: I have been searching for

a new way of living breathing thriving but my

body has begun to fill with broken people /

The sounds they make feel infinite / Everywhere

I look—in each of my dark corners—I see singing /

I see masses marching searching hunting for their

new world, the home they knew each so-called slave

should would could be entitled to / And their solemn songs

are choking me / I have repeatedly

asked begged demanded this noise stop but their

mouths are taped open, their hands frozen—some dirges

need conducting; are too cold to let go of easily—and

I have been sitting inside myself with their

music bobbing like bad boats / Their ditties

on green repeat / Do I feel envy? At the assurance and

acceptance only the long-dead feel? / Music is licking my ears, their