There have been four poets whose recent passing has struck the dark hard place inside me, like a hammer hitting an anvil and chipping off white hot sparks from whatever was being shaped there:
Ai
Lucille Clifton
Deborah Diggs
Sarah Hannah
I first heard Ai read in Stillwater, Oklahoma, where she taught. She was so gentle in her movements, in her deportment, and her words were so powerful. The contrast, and the force of her meanings, made the evening memorable. Rarely does one meet the quiet yet unrelenting force of nature, embodied. That was Ai.
I can't adequately muster all the respect and longing in my heart to bid these poets farewell properly.
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