Miz Claudie Walker
A choir of earthly Black angels – with voices fit for Heaven –
sang Amazing Grace as ancient Miz Claudie Walker
had never heard it sung before.
She had not known that it was Lillian’s favorite hymn,
or that she’d soothed Miz Claudie’s own son with its
words of sweet salvation as he lay dying –
consumed by fever.
What Miz Claudie Walker did know was how
well Lillian scrubbed and polished her lonely
castle. The one she insisted Lillian
always enter through the back.
Miz Claudie did know that Lillian cooked
meals fit for any queen, but never once
invited her to sit down at the banquet table.
And Miz Claudie was well aware that Lillian
often knelt on tired knees, to dry her children’s
tears, when Miz Claudie herself
did not have the time.
“Go home now, Sister Lillian –
and take your sweet, sweet rest,”
Reverend Tucker said,
“We loved you oh so dearly,
but our Jesus loved you best.”
A choir of earthly Black angels – with voices fit for Heaven –
sang Amazing Grace, as ancient Miz Claudie Walker
touched Lillian’s still hand.
Copyright © L. Owens | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment