Doctor Grandma

Coloring eggs was family time,

mixing all the hues

with a tsp of vinegar

to make the colors bright,

I liked to draw my own design

invisible, magic,

that only showed when dropped into

a coffee mug of paint,

Carefully, I took my time,

not wanting this to end,

leaving one alone in blue

hoping they wouldn’t see,

and no one else would have an egg

a deeper blue than me.

My dad’s in his coffee cup

to watch it become brown,

I did it later with my kids,

and now they carry on,

Family time and bonding,

a happy memory,

Acceptance and creating

our own identity.

(just a little Easter memory)

Christmas, O’Christmas!

The day is finally here!

Silent nights and gift-filled mornings

And Wassails of good cheer

The mayhem of this season

Should make a sane one wonder why

Be that as it may, Merry Christmas to all

from a Jew and a Baha’i.

Stay warm,drink a coffee,

or better, hot chocolate,

Stay warm,

pull a blanket up over your feet,

Make a toast to the coldness of Winter

in a southern house

with no insulation,

Stay warm,

and dream of Springtime coming,

the birds will wake you up at dawn,

Stay warm for now, and go to bed early,

Two bodies are always

warmer than one.

cfblack 01-13-2022

new

What happened to the man who beat Fannie Lou Hamer

while she was in jail

for trying to vote?

Was he offered money for the vicious assault?

Was he let go, to return to his home?

Did they compare stories of being black in America?

Did he hate her for working for their human rights?

Did the guards enjoy the horror of his crime?

Did they lie to him about who she was?

Did he feel remorse?

Did he beg forgiveness?

Did he say it didn’t matter, that she was no good?

And later, when she passed, at age 59,

Did he feel her saintly soul

looking down on him from heaven?

10-08-2021

Hot summer nights

The insects call

Happy their time has come,

We cannot speak the language,

a million staccato chirpings

run together in a high-pitched scream,

They call to one another,

The choir sings,

The sun is down

The backyard alive,

I sit and listen,

Window open,

Letting humidity envelop my room,

This is their time,

They call, they crawl,

Till morning comes again.

A bird sings outside my window

announcing the New Year,

This is “winter” in South Carolina,

Leaves cover my yard so thick

there is nowhere to begin,

They provide a cover for squirrels

to hide their treasures,

A blanket for snakes

to pursue their path,

The Sun shines bright

providing warmth,

It is 50 degrees,

and a Carolina Wren

sings her song of promise.

—cfblack              12-31-2014