My black brothers dance
Out- in the silences of night
In the calm of the cut marble-
A black labor dance.
My black brothers,
Just as once
They couldn't even own themselves,
Under the flames of an estranging sun
In the Southern cotton fields,
Now they wander an exodic field
That sparkles with White hardness.
My black brothers
In a cage where white columnar giants
Hold high the master's graven white image in silence,
Now they crawl around
And spread bronzed arms,
Grudgingly kneeling unto the marble,
Humming to the night
Chanting a black labor song.
My black brothers
With buckets and towels,
With brushes and brooms
Play into the night
A march to the morrow's red dawn.