Father Son and Holy Ghost

By Audre Lorde 1934–1992 Audre Lorde

I have not ever seen my father’s grave.

Not that his judgment eyes

have been forgotten

nor his great hands’ print

on our evening doorknobs

one half turn each night

and he would come

drabbled with the world’s business

massive and silent

as the whole day’s wish

ready to redefine

each of our shapes

but now the evening doorknobs

wait and do not recognize us

as we pass.

Each week a different woman

regular as his one quick glass

each evening

pulls up the grass his stillness grows

calling it weed.

Each week a different woman

has my mother’s face

and he

who time has changeless

must be amazed

who knew and loved

but one.

My father died in silence

loving creation

and well-defined response

he lived still judgments

on familiar things

and died knowing

a January 15th that year me.

Lest I go into dust

I have not ever seen my father’s grave.

Audre Lorde, “Father Son and Holy Ghost” from Collected Poems of Audre Lorde. Copyright © 1997 by The Audre Lorde Estate. Reprinted with the permission of W. W. Norton & Company, Inc. This selection may not be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Source: Collected Poems of Audre Lorde (W. W. Norton and Company Inc., 1997)

Biography

A self-styled "black, lesbian, mother, warrior, poet," writer Audre Lorde dedicated both her life and her creative talent to confronting and addressing the injustices of racism, sexism, and homophobia. Her poetry, and "indeed all of her writing," according to contributor Joan Martin in Black Women Writers (1950-1980): A Critical Evaluation, "rings with passion, sincerity, perception, and depth of feeling." Concerned with modern . . .

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