Juan Qi An
pink love
Night is juba, night is congo.
Pretty Malinda, dance with me.
The poet Robert Hayden was riffing on night amongst the Georgia pines, night that called the children of slaves to remember nights they’d never seen in an Africa where they’d never lived. All nights everywhere have some Africa in them. Something hidden, something untamed, something wild and natural, something vital and maybe something dangerous.
Night is an African juju man
weaving a wish and a weariness together
Night in Toronto, night in Moscow…African nights. Night in Bangkok and Quito, night in Canberra…African nights. No bright city light, no sylvan moon, no rural starshine can truly change the nature of night. At night we can all fly away home to Africa.
Night is laughing, night is a longing.
Pretty Malinda, come to me.
You feel it, the Africa. You may love it, you may fear it…but night comes and when you’re out in it, you feel it. Yes, you too, pretty Malinda. You too. Tonight you’ll dance with me in Africa.
Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, greg fallis and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
