The Train's A Comin (Part 2 End)

Imagine, here we are three happy black girls up from Canada, two light skin blacks, one visible black that's me and one poor Italian young man who doesn't know what he's in for. All standing at the side of the road wondering what comes next. Walking the streets of America, a whole new Country ya see. We're walking the streets of America way back in 1963. There was a thickness we didn't understand, a thickness we never knew. We left peace across the border and began to walk in complicated shoes. I felt the heavy hands of white power as he picked me up from The pavement headed t'ward the sky. Marry me miss, marry me today, laughing while walking away. We all stared at each other, wondering what the heck was that. I felt an uneasiness I had never felt before. The sooner we get back home, the faster we can close this door. It was that segregation we felt deep in our soul. We weren't separated only by gender ya see, it was the color coding, almost like counting one, two and three. You could see the wide opened saucers as we walked almost hand in hand. Both black and whites were appalled until we opened our mouths and they heard it all. It was a sigh of relief when some heard the accent coming down, Awww you all from across the border, it's a whole different world over here sistah and the advice began to pour. I thought my heart would stop beating when I picked it up from the floor. Ya see it was as if it was trampled by a thousand elephants or more. The pain tugged at my soul and I fought hard to hold the tears back, reality was cruel as it began to unfold. That poor little Italian boy, well he didn't know what to do and he begged us to come back home with him but we kept walking in those complicated shoes. The white only signs was a dagger in the heart, all things changed, where did it end, where did it start. It was like walking through a museum gazing slowly at passers by. Nodding heads, half smiles, red eyes, hate trickling through. I knew we were protected by a power some of these poor people had never met and I would share this experience through life with absolutely no regret. The reality of the beast is a hard blow to bear but the juice of freedom I knew awaited me over there. Written by: Melvina Germain Date: Mar.7/2016