Millard Lowe Poet Prose Poetry

Middle Passage Child

Africa! my beloved Africa…mother
continent of my ancestor’s ancestors…
how well I know of you; yearn for you; yet
I have not met you in person.

America!  my beloved America…father
continent of my parents and theirs…
how well I know you; live with and love you; 
yet you treat me as if I’m a bastard child.

African-American I am; a blooming ebony child
from the spread loins of two fertile continents.

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Sand Blown July 4, 2019 at 2:22 PM beautiful write...any color can and might well be treated as a 'bastard child'...even by their own...shit happens Millard Lowe July 6, 2019 at 10:22 PM So true sand blown. It takes a lot of feces to dump on a whole a race of bastards children. Thanks for the read and feedback. Peace and Love, Millard Lowe.