Tubman's Rock
I
held visions; I too was chosen
And
tossed against my say-so.
Who
knew I'd be carried
All
those years, or my kiss could form a scar
On
her forehead, or that I'd sing to her at
Unwelcome
times?
Our
meeting was brief;
A
rough hand wished her dead
And
aimed.
I
startled and fell. Here I nest, spent
In a
field,
Special
among
My kind.
Her hard lesson, her God-flint.
____
@Cornelius Eady. Blackbird. Spring 2003. Vol 2, Issue 1.
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