Christened in the night
by rain
at the crossroads
Kissing each memory
that burns
—breathing his words again
(Hazlehurst Mississippi: October, 1975)
Categories:
hazlehurst, fate,
Form: Free verse
Footprints through his garden.
My uncle and I once played tag
amongst his greenery;
With muddied shoes
and fear getting
the best of me
Surprisingly,
I had shaken my head yes
when he asked,
"Were those my footprints"
tracking through his greenery?
My uncle took the brunt of punishment
I carried on with only admonishment.
I think that was the first time
I was given a warning
and ran with it.
Throughout my life,
I have tried to retrace
a path he had set.
Footprints so large
it inspired generations to stand tall
This walk you see us fulfilling
is our attempt to be more like him,
The constant gardener.
His muddied shoes left a trail
for us to follow.
From Hazlehurst, Ga
to Akron, Oh,
Egypt and Israel,
from now till then
and onto clouds on high
I wonder if God is asking
"Who's footprints are these
tracing through My greenery?"
We can all smile
because we know
It is him. It's him.
Categories:
hazlehurst, garden, grandfather, heaven,
Form: Prose Poetry