Darice M. Jones and Anya Drapkin

Anya Drapkin
“Rain Dance”
Ink & crayon on paper

Piqued on Ashby
By Darice M. Jones
Inspiration Piece

Ayele heard the “bop, bop, bop” of the drums as she drove by

From her inner ear to her base bottom backbone

Those drums reverberated, making her pull her car over quick


She could see the thick veins atop dark chocolate hands that rose just high enough above the skin

Then came down hard and fast

Steady and knowing

“Bop, bop, bop, bop.”


These fitty-le’em shades of boogie brown

Strong folks, mostly men – who didn’t really know each other like that

These bulging biceped Saturday super-heroes

who could do even more than Badu

And c’make you pull your car over


Ayele could not only see them in her minds eye, she could smell them

Frankincense, Myrrh, Black Love, Cocoa and rhythm

Her heart sped up at the thought of rounding the corner and descending the stairs

Today she might have to join the other impromptu amateur dancers, who couldn’t resist the vibe

Today she might have to spend every dollar in her wallet, supporting all the rows of Black vendors

Each with their own “bop, bops” on display

Headwraps, rings,

oils, tees,



incense holders,

Black icon posters,

paintings, masks,

mud cloth bags


Everything Ayele’s soul-space got

She fed to her own little

“Bop, bop, bop.”



Written during Black History Month, In the Year of Stevie Wonder 2021


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