Ask Me Who Maya Angelou Is
and I’ll tell you.
She is the rich purple plum
in my throat that oozes voice
when silence seeks to silence me.
She is the gangly parts of my soul
that don’t quite fit into a room,
and shouldn’t, reminding me
that I am much bigger than I perceive.
She is the woman, parceled out
in pieces, all over the world’s hardwood
floors, then somehow strung back together
into a silk significance nobody could
She is the poetry of what one life can become.
– Gina Marie Mammano, in remembrance of Maya Angelou