I Dreamt the Negro, Beautiful as Night
| DREAMT THE NEGRO, BEAUTIFUL AS NIGHT
I dreamt the Negro, beautiful as night,
walked sewer-deep and city-tall, polite
but softly terrible; the jagged stars
shone in his eyes and teeth; his cheeks and chin
were cherry black, his breath was smoke, his grin
was ringed in bonfire red. And jails, by bars,
fell down in cool quick fires of his hands;
the winds like languages of crumbling lands
went silent at his feet. The air hung spiced
around him-honied, cinnamoned-it shone,
it whirred. His silver laughter razor-sliced
its skies. A halo of the sun was his,
like molten gold, or what enthronement is,
with darkness on the beauty of its own....
Structure
15 lines · 1 stanza