My Root

chapter five.

They knew me better than I knew myself.
They knew I was weak because of Europe life.
They knew my strength.
My roots knew the real life. They had no Google but they know everything.
They knew how to talk and how to walk.
They knew ladies. Real African ladies.
They know hate and dislike it.
They knew when the sun was out and when it settles.
They could tell the time with no clock.
They knew the clouds.
They knew respect and care.
They are wise. They are black.
My root is black.