i had moved back down home
from the meanness of the city
a stranger in my own place of birth
red clay reinforcing i was now on mars
a trip to the general store
was necessary for provisions
much to my over-the-counter dismay
the cashier explained in native tongue
that they didn’t accept my fancy credit card
that’s when a twenty dollar bill
materialized passing by my shoulder
i turned around to find
the good samaritan coming to my rescue was
uncle ronnie’s wife
my sweet aunt bernice
her hair longer than i’d ever seen it
in my lifetime
black streaked with silver
just like mine
she had never looked more beautiful
wearing a smile
and the fine woman she is
to this day
refuses to let me repay her that twenty
7 replies on “the fine woman she is”
How kind! such a great story! it’s hard to find kindness like that, even from family
How right you are, Talicha. Thank you….
You’re welcome!
Your poems remind me of William Carlos Williams in there ability to talk about everyday things in great ways. With that said, I’m not the biggest fan of William Carlos Williams, but I think your work is fantastic. Can’t wait to read more. Love how relatable your poems are, and how they say more than what is just there.
I’m honored you are compelled to draw such a comparison. What a beautifully rendered comment. Humbled. Thank you, Ben.
You’re very welcome. Hope to read more in the future.
A lovely and loving exposition of “it’s not where you are but who you’re with” – well done.