Doctor Grandma

I think our car will find the way,
It knows this trip
from South to North,
where the Mountains rise before us,
Ancient beings, asleep but alive,
They breathe and sigh as we drive through
their winding curves and valleys,
to the rolling hills of Tennessee,
and then on to Kentucky.
I feel almost home
when we reach the rolling waters
of the Ohio,
where the waters stretch wide,
and slaves crossed over
to the beckoning arms of freedom.
A church now sits on the other side
my great-grandfather’s wife attended,
a stop on the Underground Railroad
in the time she was a member.
I love the South, the Palmetto trees,
the fresh smell of pine forest,
The Sun that greets me every day,
the artists and the people,
but I can’t help feeling a sense of pride
when I cross the great Ohio,
and know that my great-grandfather
wore a uniform of blue,
and once the lands lay flat on their back
and the Sky reaches down to kiss them,
when I see the corn and soybean fields,
then I know how much I missed them.
                            — cfblack 12-21-17

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