I Have A Rendezvous With Life.

Lord, Forgive Me If My Need Sometimes Shapes A Human Creed.

If I Am Going To Be A Poet At All, I Am Going To Be Poet And Not Negro Poet.

The Key To All Strange Things Is In Thy Heart..../ My Spirit Has Come Home, That Sailed The Doubtful Seas.

Death Cut The Strings That Gave Me Life, And Handed Me To Sorrow, The Only Kind Of Middle Wife My Folks Could Beg Or Borrow.

Not For Myself I Make This Prayer, But For This Race Of Mine That Stretches Forth From Shadowed Places Dark Hands For Bread And Wine.