As a White Woman
As a white woman, I cannot know exactly what my black brothers and sisters have gone through and are currently enduring. I never can honestly say, “I know what that feels like” or “I fully understand”.
Case in point: . . .
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I’m Always Thinking…
On hot summer days, I’d sit on the floor at my Aunt Donna’s house and listen as she played the piano and wrote music or go to my grandma’s house to spend the night, and wake up to the pungent scent of Folgers in the morning. But then another part of me thinks about the hard stuff . . .
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Feeling Icy Tears
This person replied, “How old are you?”
“Thirty-eight,” I said…trying to maintain my smile.
They exclaimed, “Well, that’s too old anyway.” . . . .
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Empty Christmas
The air was thin
A heart restless, empty within
Another Christmas, another song
Yet we wonder: “This will go on for how long?”
Dusty tinsel lined the Wal-Mart shelves
Thanksgiving decorations were crowded out with elves
The bells were ringing
Mariah Carey kept on singing…
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When Christmas Isn’t Merry
Because He can handle it all. . .
He gave me my joy, and He can carry my pain.
He sits with me in my mess and loves me anyway.
