I Have A Strong Suspicion . That

I Was Born In A Negro Town.

There Is A Basin In The Mind Where Words Float Around On Thought And Thought On Sound And Sight. Then There Is A Depth Of Thought Untouched By Words, And Deeper Still A Gulf Of Formless Feelings Untouched By Thought.

Grab The Broom Of Anger And Drive Off The Beast Of Fear.

There Are Years That Ask Questions And Years That Answer.

When The People Sat Around On The Porch And Passed Around The Pictures Of Their Thoughts For The Others To Look At And See, It Was Nice. The Fact That The Thought Pictures Were Always Crayon Enlargements Of Life Made It Even Nicer To Listen To.