Poems

The Help

Night diminished.
I walked outside,
Lighting the lantern.
It was plain to many,
The lantern calling in the desperate,
Escaping to freedom.

I unlock my cellar door.
There I creep in,
Placing clean blankets,
And a bit of food,
On the floor
For the company.

I walk back up,
Pretend to lock it.
I retreat to my bed,
Waiting for morning to come.
Hoping to find the blankets occupied
To see the food gone.

In the morning,
I discovered two fearful faces,
Who looked up at me.
I shut the doors
And walked down under.
I set down some morning tea.

Routinely,
I handed them clean clothes,
Taking
Their old tattered ones.
Planning,
To burn the unusable.

Night comes again.
I watch from my window,
As the slaves escape,
To the next house.
Inching them
Towards their freedom.