My language is my land

Each y’all a plot

Of rich red earth 

My drawl the honeysuckle 

Twisting ‘round the links of the fence

Protecting what is mine

My accent the sweetness from the plum trees

And the spice from the peppers of Granny’s backyard

My language is my land

And on it stands 

The house we built 

This room where I call your name

And write to remember my own