Fences

An Ode to August Wilson

By KL

With a pen…

imagination reflects the history along

Center and Kirk Aves

where we hustle…

they were playing the dozens against the winners

and losers singing the blues in Pittsburgh

August Wilson… he use to hum on paper as he

sat on corners coloring the converted, convicted and conceived

characters congregating throughout this nightlife diamonds…

or the day-death workers who dream to become

the dreams we all bleed…

Reality is a dream indeed

All we need is smiles and laughter

and he laughed at the urban tales we tell of the Hill

These were Black Horizons

and August sat along the shore. But only in his mind cause

he had places to go…

a jitney to catch… a story to tell…

Told it so well, now

August in April replaces rain showers

with theatrical poems and rhythms of Pittsburgh patterns

built off of blues sung by saints and sinners swallowed by the same sorrows… or celebrations…

The poetic perception of his society was perceived as a performance…

first scene was set when the sun went dim

and the light was replaced with lights along the street

and you…

You could be the star of his show…

August was in the audience of reality

because in the beginning

was a writer, a director, and life

But his award… was to tell his story his way

with a pen…

to make imagination reflect history

along Center and Kirk Ave!

You all ready for a ride? An August Wilson ride?

Then, he could write… forever!

http://www.augustwilson.net/Ode_to_AW.htm