He lifts the old unconscious woman from the floor and
places her back on her bed. He reaches
for her quilt and covers her body. He watches
the colors change in the cloth. They glow like early
sunrise or late moonlight. Soon the woman begins to
stir as if she is stirring something in her kitchen. Heat
slowly returning to her limbs. He places his hand on the
woman's forehead. Smiling he looks down at her gray hair
and remembers how as a child he loved hiding in it. It was
more fun than hiding in the woods that surrounded the cabin
and woodshed. When the old woman combed her hair it
gave off sparks. Tales talk about how a slave grabbed
one, one night, and went running off into the dark
trying to set the world on fire.

 

E. Ethelbert Miller
3/21/04