Uncle Harish's Poem~ By Dennis Reed

1.
Here, on 125th Street
my head processed
waves counted
one, two, three times
in front of the
smoky one room mirror
at the Saint Theresa’s hotel
I met my nephews
for another time
with their momma.

2.
Me, fresh out of college,
with a bundle of clothes
and the asphalt street
of probation
stretched out
like a New York avenue
in front of me.
‘’Harish, you sure look good,’’
her eyes said.
‘’You look good as new money.’’

3.
My Vaselined face,
shining down between
sun rays playing hopscotch
with a man’s memory
‘’You look good too Alice.
Gold teeth shining
And my cheekbones, greased up
like Karo on them 
those pretty children
staring at me like I was 
the daddy they lost
[cerebral brain hemorrhage]
‘’here,’’ I said, take this,’’
giving them some crumpled up dollars
I had in my pocket
my nostrils flaring
with particular air
walking up to Convent Avenue.
all of us, a group of us,
almost felt like a family
for a second, split in time
by memories of knife edged
logic, I lived
‘’You look good…Harish…you look good…
when’s the last time you seen?
knowing I ain’t seen nobody
for a long time
her hair, spread across her face
like a prayer
we used to say
in Virginiaruralsmalltimechurch


4.
I got to go now, my mind thought
she saw me, moving toward home
or my one room
The sun angry
and stalking me.
‘’You know what, Alice, long as I’m out here,
you’re never alone,’’
I said, turning up the block
toward the wide openness
and concrete we traded
Virginia grass for. 


Author Bio:
Dennis Reed is a poet living in Bowie, Maryland. As a former member of the infamous Bud Jones poetry group, his work has appeared in Essence, Black Scholar, Style, Caution, and many other magazines and journals. Dennis taught writing courses at Morehouse College, William and Mary and Virginia Commonwealth University. He is a proud product of the New York City public schools and holds degrees are from Long Island University and Virginia Commonwealth University.