Lucille Clifton died 2 years ago around this time. Did I already know this? Did I forget? Anyways, it hurts, as though for the first time, but maybe hurts again. Because, she just... She mattered.
I listened to her read this poem aloud back in college, and as soon as I felt her death on the hairs of my skin, I instantly remembered her voice that night, and all of the tiny flecks of detail as she moved through it.
homage to my hips
BY LUCILLE CLIFTON
these hips are big hips
they need space to
move around in.
they don't fit into little
petty places. these hips
are free hips.
they don't like to be held back.
these hips have never been enslaved,
they go where they want to go
they do what they want to do.
these hips are mighty hips.
these hips are magic hips.
i have known them
to put a spell on a man and
spin him like a top!
Lucille Clifton, “homage to my hips” from Good Woman. Copyright © 1987 by Lucille Clifton. Reprinted with the permission of Curtis Brown, Ltd.
Source: Good Woman (BOA Editions Ltd., 1987)
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