a pastel by Ethel Mortenson Davis

Filed under Art, Art by Ethel Mortenson Davis, Ethel Mortenson Davis
Filed under Art, Art by Ethel Mortenson Davis, Ethel Mortenson Davis
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
Sometimes I want to go to you but remember that I have put you in a special room far from here, a room, nonetheless, with an open door, so that I can enter anytime. So, I can see your smile when you were running with Shiva, the golden lab, through autumn leaves in a special forest long ago. So, I can walk through that door anytime.
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry
Filed under Art, Art by Ethel Mortenson Davis, Ethel Mortenson Davis
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
The moon is most beautiful at her beginning, or end. Like a fine-edged sickle punctuating the blackness. Minimal. A lot like you. Not outstanding. Almost missed. Nevertheless beautiful. Step outside with me. We’ll see her from the steps. Let your skin touch the cold.
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems
Filed under Art, Art by Ethel Mortenson Davis, Ethel Mortenson Davis
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
Fannie Lou Hamer was beaten by a policeman until he couldn’t beat her any longer, so he had his partner continue the beating. That day, Fannie Lou left part of her brain there on the ground, but she didn’t leave her courage. She came back for more. Because she only wanted her people to be free, free from fear, free from beatings, free from death just free to enjoy life, to be wholly human.
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry
Filed under Art, Art by Ethel Mortenson Davis, Ethel Mortenson Davis