Jane Ormerod
What could I say to Donny Jackson
for a new way to see, hear, feel language?
to V. Kali for raising children?
to Conney Williams for New Orleans
without and with the hurricane?
to Rebecca Gonzalez for East L.A.?
as a girl and a young woman?
to Lisa Marguerite Mora
for deep-thought elegance?
and to a dozen other friends
for speaking rage about injustice?
they teach me once again
what poetry is and isn’t
it’s not the dance
it’s not the music
it is the dancer
turning music no one else hears
into poses, movements, and positions
ripples that go on
beyond the pond
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