LCK
Acrobat
Seed of Hope
He sat in the dusty dirt,
His indeterminable clothing but
A rag about his waist
His dark head bent against
The onslaught of the merciless sun,
And in his hand he cupped a single seed,
His eyes closed earnestly,
His parched lips moving silently.
"What are you doing?" I ask gently
Once he opens his eyes to meet my gaze.
"I'm trying to grow something," he answers softly.
"One of the white ladies at the new school
They built says we ain't praying right."
He begins to poke at the hard unyielding ground
With a gnarled stick, twisting it like a tool.
"We don't do nothing right. They's teaching us
Everything so we can look after ourselves.
We ain't supposed to be so helpless always."
I don't know what to say.
He looks at me from beneath his eyelids,
Quietly assessing if I can be trusted.
"I don't think its us." he says at last.
"It ain't being lazy or stupid that keeps us
Hungry, we ain't got no water.
Babies get sick and die and all the
Green things wither away and these seeds
Won't grow no matter how good we plant
Them. And I don't see that its my fault
Cause I don't dress good or pray right
Or work hard enough or know their math."
He pokes harder at the baked barren dirt
And his stick snaps off in his hand.
Suddenly sullen he flings it away.
"I'd like to see them grow stuff here"
He mutters. Then looks at me half-apologetically,
I am one of Them after all,
Even if I'm listening.
Laurie
He sat in the dusty dirt,
His indeterminable clothing but
A rag about his waist
His dark head bent against
The onslaught of the merciless sun,
And in his hand he cupped a single seed,
His eyes closed earnestly,
His parched lips moving silently.
"What are you doing?" I ask gently
Once he opens his eyes to meet my gaze.
"I'm trying to grow something," he answers softly.
"One of the white ladies at the new school
They built says we ain't praying right."
He begins to poke at the hard unyielding ground
With a gnarled stick, twisting it like a tool.
"We don't do nothing right. They's teaching us
Everything so we can look after ourselves.
We ain't supposed to be so helpless always."
I don't know what to say.
He looks at me from beneath his eyelids,
Quietly assessing if I can be trusted.
"I don't think its us." he says at last.
"It ain't being lazy or stupid that keeps us
Hungry, we ain't got no water.
Babies get sick and die and all the
Green things wither away and these seeds
Won't grow no matter how good we plant
Them. And I don't see that its my fault
Cause I don't dress good or pray right
Or work hard enough or know their math."
He pokes harder at the baked barren dirt
And his stick snaps off in his hand.
Suddenly sullen he flings it away.
"I'd like to see them grow stuff here"
He mutters. Then looks at me half-apologetically,
I am one of Them after all,
Even if I'm listening.
Laurie
