Diaspora 
She asks me if I know what this means 
Like the seeds of a dandelion 
Blown by the harsh winds of intention versus expectation 
I am a black woman and the seed 
Is the marrow of my spine 
The wind has caught in the thickness of my hair 
Lifting me to this place among pale faces

Liminal Being 
She asks me if I know what this means 
When I catch the sea at high tide 
I will drift to my people in familiar waters 
To hear them speak not to me 
Not to a face they no longer recognize 
But of me 
In whispers with side glances 
I will hide fingers that snap like peas 
Off beat 
Eagerly awaiting smiles 
Unforthcoming 
I who now recite Baldwin, Brooks and Dove 
On deaf ears 
Praying for yet another strong wind

I am forever unsettled, drifting... 
Is this what it means to be an educated black woman

Diaspora, Liminal Being 
Yes I say 
I am familiar with these terms 
This class should be an easy A