Shadow.
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lie down in the shadow.No longer the light of my dream before me,Above me.Only the thick wall.Only the shadow. My hands!My dark hands!Break through the wall!Find my dream!Help me to shatter this darkness,To smash this night,To break this shadowInto a thousand lights of sun,Into a thousand whirling dreamsOf sun! AUNT SUE’S STORIES Aunt Sue has a head full of stories.Aunt Sue has a whole heart full of stories.Summer nights on the front porchAunt Sue cuddles a brown-faced child to her bosomAnd tells him stories. Black slavesWorking in the hot sun,And black slavesWalking in the dewy night,And black slavesSinging sorrow songs on the banks of a mighty riverMingle themselves softlyIn the flow of old Aunt Sue’s voice,Mingle themselves softlyIn the dark shadows that cross and recrossAunt Sue’s stories. And the dark-faced child, listening,Knows that Aunt Sue’s stories are real stories.He knows that Aunt SueNever got her stories out of any book at all,But that they cameRight out of her own life.
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