Poem by Forestine Bynum

From the Balcony
 
Overlooking my balcony, I often saw
Saw a gathering of women and children
Mothers with babies tucked tightly in their arms
They were quiet, rather orderly
Not causing a disturbance, walker passed by politely
Busying themselves as not to see, scurry to
Catch the bus or get to their cars
 
I saw women taking turns scavenging
Through a dumpster nearby
I hadn’t notice before, for food
The only sound heard was a tiny cry asking
Mommy, when will we get food
And a voice saying, Feed My People, Feed My People
And a mother’s soft voice replying
Tomorrow, tomorrow my child, I hope
To mor row, to mor row
 
By Forestine C. Bynum