If way to the Better there be, it exacts a full look at / the Worst.
Thomas Hardy Tenebris II
I stared at school at not-belonging girls,
Parsee, Nigerian, Russian Jew;
I fingered bemused Maisooni’s midriff string —
did here start hairline cracks in views?
At home, our farm denied the spine
of human history’s intermixing;
I’d firm belief each race should stay apart,
mules thankfully debarred from breeding.
Yet I’d soon tremble at the natural swing
of those who’d walked barefoot in bush;
find the quiet look of dark brown eyes,
hand taken, waltz and then a jive,
weight of arched arm and body safe to spin;
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