The apple trees in Chicago are yours and so are the
And yours too, the clubs, with dusty shoes and sweaty
backs, and steamed- pressed linen for Sunday’s best.
The KKK Clan and “Sit in the Back Blacks” sign was yours
The seashells in Little Rhody are mine and so are the
seagulls wailing for food.
And mine too, the sailing boats, the Doughboys and milk
bubbles still swirling with coffee syrup from a spoon.
The glistening spit in my hair that you braided that
morning and the “World’s Racist Jokes” read to me every
afternoon was mine too.
The gift of laughter was yours then mine.
The suffering you experienced was yours then mine.
The defeat of suffering I experienced was mine then
The endless love we gave each other was always yours
and always mine
This is Yours, This is Mine.