Love song to a moving target
He crosses life a dancing shadow flash of man
solo, says he likes that disconnected feel
of being rooted only to himself. A doer,
moving with talent in his bones
caution in his eyes, vision in his voice
speaking to young men of futures unimagined,
with possibilities beyond their fathers’ dreams.
A dreamer, color of Mandinka warrior,
quick tongued, urban cowboy,
fragile human dressed in hero’s clothes, for boys
who are invisible until there’s trouble, he will not
walk away from them, continues to pay a price so high
his ancestors sob within his dreams.
I’ve been in the bounty of his heart, held his ache
of somewhere just outside thought that will one day
crack the glass of the white-world’s pretend promises.
Older now, a gambler against the odds for all those boys
locked within dingy limits given to youths of their colors,
he’s always been a threat to some of rising into power,
a black champion they fear, warrior who wages change.
But for himself, his dreams wait, pieced together
out of remembrance and remorse, hidden
until he’s brave enough to reach for his own gold.
Sharon Lopez Mooney, “Love song to a moving target”, in ‘Existere j Journal of Arts & Literature, Issue 42.1, ed. Marlene Bernholtz, Toronto, Canada, 2022, https://existere.info.yorku.ca/editions/next-edition/