Monday, March 26, 2012

"One Spring Day," by Helen C. Keith


A squirrel stopped halfway across
The longest path, as if at loss
To choose from wonders that he saw;
Upholding chin with on small paw,
Philosopher and unafraid,
He stood beneath the sacred shade.

 A negro ambled down the hill,
A girl’s brisk upward step grew still.
For the squirrel’s sake, the two veered right.
She smiled as if they both were white;
And he with perfect faith, smiled back
As if they both were gods…and black.

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