SYLVIA FREEMAN

Given

Queen Anne’s Lace, Buttercups

Wild Primrose adorn this field

where the old home place once stood

where they found that will in the attic

Wild Primrose adorn this field

thinking of you Grace, how you were given

to my mother’s grandmother – given -

like a piece of furniture or lace tablecloth

thinking of you Grace, how you were given

a girl, barely in her teens, given

to a young mother whose family was growing

I cannot know how you were treated

a girl, barely in her teens, given

quietly serving, never saying

cannot grasp how hard you worked

while others took their rest

quietly serving, never saying

watching other slaves

labor in this very field

now wild with color

watching other slaves

striving to live in an unjust time

unable to choose your own life

how powerless you were

striving to live in an unjust time

nothing I do or say can undo this shame

still, I take a handful of earth, field flowers

symbolically lift your spirit

nothing I do or say can undo this shame

I long to unbind you to soar

release you to the bright sky

to all the heavens I cannot see

I long to unbind you to soar

to a God I can’t begin to understand

who allows so much sorrow and gives

Queen Anne’s Lace, Buttercups

Sylvia Freeman's poems have appeared in Story South, NC Literary Review, Galway Review, The Lake, and various anthologies, most recently in I Thought I Heard a Cardinal Sing. She received the Randall Jarrell poetry prize in 2018 from NC Writer’s Network. She lives in Durham, NC.

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