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Sister Rosetta, she was the essence of rock. The most gorgeous of us all.

They all stood around and loved her.  Hers was the singing that they all stood around copying. Here she is:

and here:

and here:

Shout, Lady, Shout

One this one night, it didn’t rain, and it was very clear

that he was living off her talent. There was a big wind, and she blew away

. She said, when I was a kid, the wind meant

that the trees could finally dance.

Now I hear trains.

Sometimes we met gladness.

Here is the confidence that you blame for our silence,

here is that new growth that begins to shake and dance.

Didn’t it rain, oh lord how it rained,

and we have the force of gospel behind us.

Oh, how we worked it.

Our mother had no fear,

she was a hand clapper,

a foot stomper,

and a traveller to the North.

Gathered  mothers and charmed the congregations,

and brought them,

with the bright cords,

to the stages.

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I love this woman 🙂 Happy Saturday, poem friends.

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