Ann Peck Poet Rhyme

Legacy

A child pulled from her mother's arms
and placed into a cage.
How could a person seeing this
not feel enormous rage?

Instead, the mother, full of fear
and shocked with disbelief,
thought what she said or how she looked
had brought about this grief.

Was it because her clothes were torn,
her shoes had come apart?
She had been walking miles and miles
in search of a fresh start.

Was it because her skin was brown,
her face was stained with tears?
Was it because she looked too old
for twenty-seven years?

Would she hold her child again,
kiss her as she slept?
Would she see her timid smile,
caress her when she wept?

Or, would she miss those childhood years
not meet her until she'd grown?
Then, would the child think her Mama
was someone never known.

How can this be happening?
Where is our country's heart?
Why aren't more of us standing up?
Instead, we stand apart.

The mother sits with others
who are old beyond their years.
She bears her grief in silence now,
her legacy is tears.

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