Bertha, or Millie, or Evie,
I never knew her name,
but when my mother's
scrawny white body
never produced milk,
a soft black fountain
of creamy life giving
juices poured into me
from my nanny, who
was nursing an infant
of her own. From this
brown earthy breast
I bonded with the real
south - as a world full
of dark, warm, deep,
nourishing love
Cheryl Lynn Moyer Peele
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/another-kind-of-love/
