I’ll move back home,
Southeast where I came from.
There were Jim Crow laws
in my younger days and hatred
keeping me down. Moved
to New York to be free and dance
at the Savoy. Went on to Baltimore
for better pay, next stop Chicago
for over forty years.
This body and these bones ache
so much in the night, I can’t sleep.
I lay awake at 2:30 am my daughter
visiting in the next room, she doesn’t
hear me cry out in pain. Don’t want
to move from this windy city. It’s been
good to me; retired with a pension
got plenty to support me. Not going
to give away my hard earned money
to assist my living; nursing home
want to give me a stipend a whole
ninety dollars for personal items.
My granddaughter tells me Jim Crow
is gone. But, I know he is just hiding,
not as brazen as when I was her age;
hatred still there too. But what can
this old lady do, can’t live alone
with these aching bones.
I’ll move back home.
by: Joyce M. Rose-Harris © 2006