i am accused of tending to the past by Lucille Clifton

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i am accused of tending to the past

i am accused of tending to the past
as if i made it,
as if i sculpted it
with my own hands. i did not.
this past was waiting for me
when i came,
a monstrous unnamed baby,
and i with my mother's itch
took it to breast
and named it
History.
she is more human now,
learning languages everyday,
remembering faces, names and dates.
when she is strong enough to travel
on her own, beware, she will.

Lucille Clifton

Read poems about / on: travel, history, baby, mother, remember

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Faith Elizabeth Brigham (10/2/2005 9:31:00 AM)
You go girl! It doesn't get
any better than this
powerfully penned poetess
puts it down like it is
never a false word spilling
from her love-filled lips