One Wants a Teller in a Time Like This
One wants a teller in a time like this
One's not a man, one's not a woman grown
To bear enormous business all alone.
One cannot walk this winding street with pride
Knowing one knows for sure the way back home.
One wonders if one has a home.
One is not certain if or why or how.
One wants a Teller now:
Put on your rubbers and you won't catch a cold
Here's hell, there's heaven. Go to Sunday School
Be patient, time brings all good things-(and cool
Stong balm to calm the burning at the brain?)
Love's true, and triumphs; and God's actual.
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Comments about this poem (One Wants a Teller in a Time Like This by Gwendolyn Brooks )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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