Mary Coston Wise

Finally, I see you.

Weathered black, white

shades of brown.

I weep from longing.

 

You are eighteen

with furrowed brow

wearing your Sunday best.

 

It’s Accomack County graduation

day 1935. Did you know your arms, 

legs crossed, could not shield you 

from past, present, future tense?

 

Did you know your marriage

ends in sweating, coughing,

fever, shaking? 

 

Did you know hospitals are for whites only. 

Your uncle, husband, baby boy gone, then you. 

Your orphan sons left motherless, aching. 

 

Did you know one day 

I’d see you and lament 

countless ancestors sacrificed?

 

Did you know today 

I’d seek repair 

for countless ancestors sacrificed?

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17 Comments

    1. Deeply Moving and Heart Felt. The poem hit the core of the struggles our ancestor endured. We have to remain cognitive of that struggle and our own.

  1. You conveyed in this poem the ache and sorrow in a way that we can feel it too. Beautifully done, Sheila. Although we feel helpless righting past wrongs, acknowledging the pain helps move us forward. Thank you for this lovely piece. I can’t write poetry, so I’m in awe of everyone who can.

  2. Sheila, I am deeply mo bed by your poem. This poem has clearly come from the source of Poetry…Creation. The voice of your ancestors does speak through you, becoming your voice as pulled forth by our Holy Spirit…Yes! Keep writing your poetry..our lives and in turn our world will be touched.

  3. Sheila, I am deeply moved by your poem. This poem has clearly come from the source of Poetry…Creation. The voice of your ancestors does speak through you, becoming your voice as pulled forth by our Holy Spirit…Yes! Keep writing your poetry..our lives and in turn our world will be touched.

    1. Bev,

      Thank you for words of comfort and grace. She was my father’s mother. I never knew what she looked like. It’s such a blessing to have this photo that was discovered only a few weeks ago.

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