donyale

Dear Donyale,
my mother whispered stories about you,
yes! believe!
Back in the earliest hours
of my youth.
Where Harper’s, Essence, Vogue and TIME
sat side by side
under the Almanacs,
to the left of the Encyclopedias.

Before words of fantasy
were replaced with
modern science
and heavenly Faith.

i ADORED you.
strange i saw you,
not like the Somali Stepford darlings,
dainty, poised
languid like cats.
no.
No, you were
tall, REGAL
towering over those
bold with no boundaries.
oh how YOU,
spilled through the pages
and in to my heart.

I am so sorry I
have forgotten about you.
and how you were the beginning
of my fashion love
and life.
my belief in the strength of a woman
creative, eccentric and fearless of color,
and forever totally,completely
and utterly groovy.