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,