I wrote this poem a s a way of wrapping up some of the experiences wit h racism I have had in my life … I grew up in segregated Indiana in the 50s. My mother ’ s family lived on a farm and on Sunday when they went to church they took a picnic basket so they could stay for the KKK meeting afterwards. My mother told me this not long before she died. I never saw anything other than attitude and language that gave her and others in the family away, and I knew these beliefs were wrong. My ex-husband and father of my children is African American. This is the groundwork of the poem. Ring-Around-The Rosy I remember refusing to play ring-around-the rosy on the veranda because of the way our Mother taught it to us. She must have learned her version at the picnic after church when she was a little girl. A community of farmers ate their lunch while they had their meeting; not sure what the women did, maybe join the meeting, or watch the ...
Women's Spiritual Poetry