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In the morning, you won’t find me here

A MEDITATION IN BLACKNESS  Poem by Bayo Akomolafe I am a black man.I was planted in deep, loamy, black soil by my black father.Cradled, cultured and coaxed out like a tuber of yam by my black mother.Though I came from one womb, I am birthed by many mothers – some of skin like bark and timber,

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