Explore "Negroes" by Maxwell Bodenheim on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
/ The loose eyes of an old man / Shone aloof upon his boyish face; / And a sluggish innocence / Hugged his dull brown skin. / He sang a hymn caught from his elders / And his voice resembled / A quavering, feverish laugh / Softened in a swaying cradle. / His life had found a refuge in his voice, / And the rest of him was sickly flesh / Ignorant of life and death. / Like a crushed, excited clown / His mother shuffled out upon the porch. / Slowly her dark brown face resolved / Into the hushed and sulky look / Of one who stands within a dim-walled trap. / Lazily uncertain, / She raised the boy into her arms. / Then her voice swung in the air / Like a quavering, feverish laugh / Softened in a swaying cradle.