My Moses

That was the night when everything changed.

We all knew it;
The posters.
The dogs
And the guns.
The whippoorwill.
The owl hoot.
The three soft knocks.


That was the night when everything changed.


But after everything,
I still don’t know
Why
I’m angry.


First it started with
Otto,
Then Cora.
Little John,
Miles,
Then Lucy,
Then Jake and Jack.
Phoebe,
The one I’d thought for sure I’d never part ways with,
Then Great Aunt Ruth.

They all started packing their bandanas
Full of ashcake and salt.

I counted.

9.

9 thousand dollars worth of slaves.
9 people leaving.
9 people.

But then something shifted.

Ma and Papa started packing
Ashcake and salt
Into old, smelly, discolored
Bandanas,
All singing “Go down, Moses”.

I counted again.

Eleven.
11 thousand dollars worth of slaves.
11 people leaving.
11 people leaving everyone else
To go find happiness and prosperity,
While the rest of us get beat and whipped.
11 people getting to start a new life.

11 people leaving me
While I sit here,
In this cabin.
Watching.
Waiting.
Hurting.





But I still don’t understand
Why I’m angry.



Maybe it’s because they left me.

Maybe it’s because they never said goodbye.

Maybe it’s because they all sang happily,
While I will always live today over again.

Maybe it’s because they left me to die.

Maybe it’s because I was never good enough
to start a new life.


Maybe it’s because she’s not my Moses;
But because
She is theirs.