Color (Cullen)/Harlem Wine

by Countee Cullen

Harlem Wine

THIS is not water running here,
These thick rebellious streams
That hurtle flesh and bone past fear
 Down alleyways of dreams.

This is a wine that must flow on
 Not caring how nor where,
So it has ways to flow upon
 Where song is in the air.

So it can woo an artful flute
 With loose, elastic lips,
Its measurement of joy compute
 With blithe, ecstatic hips.