We found our way by braiding constellations,
using our hair to map the stars as sung by those mournful voices
carried across field winds. “Canaan,” they cried.
And though we could not know the way for certain, we hoped
for swift water
for that fabled train
to deliver us.
With swift fingers we whispered words to shield
weaving magic between us until we glowed—but not too bright!
so when the time came and Lady Night
had shaken her hair out to dim the Earth
we stepped to her shadows and hand in hand
into her arms
(Editors’ Note: “Spirituals” is read by Erika Ensign on the Uncanny Magazine Podcast, 46B.)
© 2022 Anjali Patel