Love Tanka #8
Grandma tells me love
is an action verb, more than
kisses and sweet treats.
Love is sable like Grandpa’s
black skin— Covered in soot, he
cradled his crying
child to his chest, shielded her
ears from the howling
wolves in white hoods. While behind
him the house of worship burned.
Written for Black Poetry Writing Month, 2017— a fortnight of “black” love poetry. Join the challenge and share your love poems today!