Patricia Vaccarino

My white horse was galloping on a beach the first time I saw her. I have been told that very few horses are truly white. Most horses that appear to be white are actually light grey. The girl who rode on the horse was blonde. Her long hair blew behind her back like silver streamers. The girl was running away from the uncertainty of trouble at home. She rode fast along the beach. The white horse would bring her to freedom.

Ms. Angelou does much more than spin a yarn about the early years of her life. Great suffering and terrible injustice is elevated to the highest level of art and beauty. Ms. Angelou’s voice, so pure and so clear, feels stylistically as a story told in the oral tradition and not a mere book.