Change
After miles and months of being stuck –
my same old self and all the same problems –
springtime comes to me even ‘though it’s fall
and the old pain melts away, leaving only light.
I find myself standing here
at Charles and Read Streets, like old times,
and, just as in my hippie days,
I’m holding my hand out for change.
Poem by Karen S. Elliott. Ms. Elliott is president of the Baltimore Ethical Society.
A Lesson from Miles
Only jazz can understand this—
music the first place Black and White
came together like unwritten notes
in a jazz composition; back then
everybody played what they felt
listened to what each was adding
to the conversation. Miles
enters me on the umpteenth
playing of My Funny Valentine.
I remember the album
Black and glossy like a child’s
face covered in Vaseline, see
faces of musicians he played
with, always ready for new
vibe, the change in music
a collaboration of love,
like Obama’s campaign.–
Poem by Mary E. Weems. Ms. Weems is a professor and author of “”An Unmistakable Shade of Red and the Obama Chronicles” (Bottom Dog Press, Ohio).
