if trees could talk
I wonder what they’d say met an old man
on the road late afternoon hat pulled over to shade his eyes
jacket slumped over his shoulders
he told me “girl! my hands seen more than all
them books they got at Tuskegee”
smiled at me
half waved his hand walked on down the dusty road met an old woman
with a corncob pipe sitting and rocking on a spring evening “sista” she
called to me “let me tell you—my feet seen more than yo eyes ever gonna read”
I smilеd at her and kept on moving
gave it a thought and wеnt back to the porch “i say gal” she called down
“you a student at the institute?
better come here and study these feet
I’m gonna cut a bunion off soons I gets up”
I looked at her
she laughed at me if trees would talk
wonder what they’d tell me