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Highway 13
Traveling eastward on highway 13, alongside
uninhabited-it seems- railroad track
Quickly passing quaint white churches,
steeples humbly making signs of the cross.
Looking down at her black skin, and wondering
Why not one white church is followed
by a single colored one…Hmm?
god's design or man's...
white churches, colored churches...Hmm?
The poetic architect quickly dismantles such thoughts
and centers her mind on nature's creation:
The confiers bearing brown cones,
neddles dropping off
brown grass dead asleep.
the evening progressed
as we pressed on passing
life's winter.
Passing by red, green, and white illuminated homes;
luminous reindeers and round-belly Santas,
Seeming to announce a Ho, Ho, Ho, and a Merry Christmas!
Unawakening the sleeping children in the back.
We continued eastward…
Merry Christmas everyone!
December 27,2007
poem
by
Almedia Knight Oliver
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