There Was A Time

Old age has slowed your steps,
Your balance is bad.  Hands shake.
Your eyes?  Life is a haze.
Ears strain to hear what’s said.
People pass you daily.
Few acknowledge you.
Youth point fingers and tease
      at your inability to keep up.
But if they only knew.

There was a time
when eyes could not look eye to eye.
Passively feet shuffled.  Heads bowed.
“Yes ma’am.”   “No sir.”
         fell humbly from lips.
Jobs—back breaking labor for crops and pennies.
     You rode in the rear,
     Entered from the rear,
                  Sat in the rear.
Days of water hoses and snarling dogs,
nights loomed with fear
as you lay in bed and listen to
the night riders drag another
                      registration seeker,
             counter sitter,
                     protester and
                            marcher
       to the hanging tree
    to teach all a lesson.

There was a time
life was slurs and threats.
Freedom was only a word.
Reading and writing was a dream.
You see, some have survived.
So youth, let the old walk slow, with pride and dignity.
For if they hadn’t lived that life of Hell
we would never know
there was a time.

by Taz
Detroit
1996


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