I don't consider myself a poet. Poetry generally intimidates me, for some reason, but this is one of very few that, although I wrote it awhile back, I don't cringe from embarrassment when I read it.
One of Us
"She's not one of us,"
his mother said sideways.
The words carried
louder than they were spoken.
"Her ways are not ours.
Her father's fathers
weren't born here
like yours.
I can see her past
in her pale eyes."
And then,
in a whisper,
"She's not one of us."
"She's not one of us,"
his mother said clearly.
Her voice sharp,
enunciating each word.
"Her ways are not ours.
Her mother's mothers
aren't from families
like yours.
I can see her past
in her red skin."
And then,
in a whisper,
"She's not one of us."
"I'm not one of us,"
I finally said bluntly.
Strength and acceptance in the words.
"My ways are mine,
and mine alone,
not yours.
I can see my past
in my face."
But then,
in a whisper,
"I'm not one of us."
TIP:
Enter the amount, and click "Tip" to submit!
Amanda Gulledge
Gianna-FL
SnippytheGrammarDog
Kerry Lauerman
Amy A
scanner
Salon.com
Comments
1) You're a poet, like it or not. One of them. ;-)
2) Listened to a radio program this weekend about 20th century Southern literature and one of the themes was mixed-race identity - the 'one drop' rule by which the descendants of slaves and slave owners were once defined as white or black, with ensuing legal and cultural repercussions. One of the panelists speculated that a simple DNA test would put the lie to racial purity for most people of Southern ancestry, and I thought wouldn't that be a pisser! If I can find that discussion online, I'll send you the link. Go now, and write more stuff.
And what you write describes much of what I fear my son may face one day. Not a day goes by when I don't try to make sure he's strong enough in his sense of self to deal with it when the day comes.
Wordsmith: I'm sure your son will do just fine, come what may.
This advice is priceless.