she was never flamboyant, instead
grandma chose crowns
made simply of white feathers,
small rhinestones & royal blue felt
she wore them hats with a dignity
peculiar to southern black belles &
northerners grown too prim
to be touched
soapy, her hands worked
expertly to peel away
white feathers, washing
one at a time
till they shined
she embraced each feather with a
tenderness i never knew
her touch could animate
finally, crowned she
is not extravagant
crowned grandma is
power glorified.
reprinted with permission from if glory wore a hat she would wear feather poems by wanda olugbala copyright 1997.
I’m loving this!
thank you.