Tubman's Rock

I held visions; I too was chosen

And tossed against my say-so.

Who knew I'd be carried

All those years, or my kiss could form a scar

On her forehead, or that I'd sing to her at

Unwelcome times?

Our meeting was brief;

A rough hand wished her dead

And aimed.

I startled and fell. Here I nest, spent

In a field,

Special among

My kind. Her hard lesson, her God-flint.