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241 swallow wings Rosemary Catacalos for Maya Angelou, with profound respect and gratitude I been to church, folks, I’m an East Side Meskin Greek and I been to church. I’m here to say I grew up hearin’ folks sing over hard times in the key of, Uh, uh, girl. It ain’t nothin’ ’bout lettin’ go a this life. I grew up in a ’hood where every day at noon black girls at Ralph Waldo Emerson Junior High School made a sacred drum of the corner mailbox, beatin’ on it to raise the dead. And make them dance. I grew up readin’ in the George Washington Carver Library, and marvelin’ at the white lightnin’ gloves that Top Ladies of Distinction use for church. I grew up where grits is indeed groceries, and a huge mountain of a woman passed my house daily, always sayin’ the same thing: Your name Rosemary? My name Rosemary, too. I grew up, folks, and I been down ’til I couldn’t get no more down in me. And now a preacher lady come to town and caused me to paint my face and put on some good clothes and go to church. And I’m here to say I have a right to take this tone, ‘cause it ain’t nothin’ ‘bout lettin’ go a this life. Swallows keep makin’ their wings out to be commas on the sky. World keep sayin’ and, and, and, and and. Reprinted from Again for the First Time (Tooth of Time Books, 1984). ...

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