Indigo Woman

Homage to Nina Simone

by Fran Reader

Yes, I loves you, Nina,
Indigo woman,
High Priestess of Soul.

I fell under your spell
too late. Now, I make do
with you through headphones.

Your treacle voice drops
sweet sadness down my spine.
I move in time

and try to mimic you
with pale notes,
but cringe at the shortfall.

My privilege is the seed
of my inability to see
into the well-depth you drew from.

Did you take the last drop
with you to sing low
in the curl of storm clouds?

Indigo woman, if I
were a bird flying high
I’d come and find you.

Copyright © 2020 Fran Reader