Let my people go.
The time is upon us
to consider parallel congruity
leavening bread on the run
stuffing cotton in bales
stretched taut like ragged mahogany hides
in jagged shafts of rusted shackles.
Go, go tell it on the mountain
they will not be judged
by the color of their skin
but by the content of their character.
Go down Moses
down below where baptism rivers flow
low, low, low
in a Mississippi flow.
Where did the dream defer to?
Why is it that good fences make good neighbors?
Black and white
White and black
Stark, Dark, Sharp
with desiccated remnants
of days lived in neighborhoods
where even spiders did not go.
Flags, flags, everywhere flags
thirteen stars
with nowhere to go
yet go they do, on and on and on…
until a photon struck
and the light emerged and the dream was born again
rising on up, rise, rise up
Ezekial has his wheel
amazing graces all around
and in the end
those dreams collide
merge, mingle, and mold
jello memories of family
folded into the strands of time.
Now is the Time
Now is the Yes
Now the truth
Now the love

Mark Hammerschick writes poetry and fiction. He holds a BA in English from the University of Illinois at Champaign-Urbana and a BS and MBA. He is a lifelong resident of the Chicago area