You caught my eye
even with your mask
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
Singing:
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
