We were dark skinned.

We knew yams and hunting

the Savannah and fear of lions-

and in the dark, demons.

We loved the nurturing green fields

and protruding body parts,

Let me mention only eyes and needy lips.

That is how we began with a song like

a sad howl and weapons from wood.

Sunk in deep meditation I revive our

archetypes.  They dance and sing the joy

of being and I catch a hazy glimpse of

Mitochondria Eve her brown eyes dancing.

Out of Africa  we moved under the

brilliant immensity of solemnly mute

and eternally cryptic skies.

We raised our head for a  single singeing kiss

and in  just a geological second  we are gone.