The Woman Who Looked Like Nina Simone

You caught my eye

even with your mask

a pandemic badge

of the mouth

yet your eyes

spoke as you moved

about the store

black woman under the

glare of florescent light,

wading in your own music,

your own rhythm while the

canned music played over

the thrift store speakers

And Nina’s voice

comes through suddenly


Birds flying high, you know

how I feel

Breeze driftin’ on by

you know how I feel.

It’s a new day…

and the thrift store is

not far from a place

called Tryon, birthplace

of Nina Simone

and the store

is where people

try on this

try on that

But Nina never fit in

Tryon or maybe Tryon

never fit her

The woman walks past

the fitting room

into another light

befitting a queen

moving as such,

wading deep in

night stars

past the cutting glare

of florescent light

(c) 2021 Tony Robles






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