The Dance
Miss Carrie Lewis,
teacher of music
for the fifth grade
at the Manassah E. Bradley School
in the "parochial"
(to put it mildly!)
East Boston of the late 1970s,
yours was the first face
of teacherly authority
that was black
(light brown, really)
and not white.
You live in my memory
as a graced and spirited soul,
dressed in flowing colourful dresses,
a secular counterpart
to the luminous Sister Thea Bowman,
whose songs I'd discover
more than twenty years later.
How beautiful you both were,
how my heart leaps even now
wanting (dare I say it?)
to dance with you both.
Poetry by Uncle Meridian
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Written on 2022-03-05 at 07:06
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