Tracing my roots..
Riding down this industrialized road
Looking through the tinted glass
Watching the land escape my view
Tracing my roots..
Fifty-five miles per hour, I watch.
I watch, and through the trees, I see.
Golden, safari like plains; dry and dead.
Tracing my roots...
Slender trees; naked, and stripped of leaves
I see her..
Bits and pieces.. My eyes are locked.
Tracing my roots
Black curls...kinky, knotted hair.
Brown as mocha.
Fast.
Tracing my roots...
She is running, smiling.
She is happy.
Eyes full of life.
Tracing my roots...
So native, she looks... Cultured.
and her head turns..
Eye contact, target is locked
Tracing my roots...
Still running, still smiling
But staring, staring deep.
An inescapable gaze.
Tracing my roots...
Young Africa; and she blossoms
Eyes bearing into each other's soul.
And we connect.
Tracing my roots...
I learn her, she learns me.
Her buck teeth, with a slight gap in the middle
Her dented skull, and I realize...
Tracing my roots...
She.
Me.
We.
Us.