MLK Birthday
come so far, so far to go
Shall we yet overcome?
I found myself in a one of those small vendor booths at an antique mall in Dahlonega, Georgia on MLK Day.
The booth was filled with Confederate flags, blankets, license plates, mugs and books.
Faceout upon faceout of books.
Books with titles like “IN THE HOUSE OF ABRAHAM-Was Lincoln Illegitimate?“
A Tribute to Jefferson Davis.
And
Living Confederate Principles: A Heritage For All Time
Lots of arguments waiting to get started.
Arguing with folks whose minds were made up a long time ago.
Come far.
But so far to come.
Shall we yet overcome?
I am reminded of the lines from Mr. Sandburg’s poem, Grass.
What places is this?
Where are we now?
I am the grass ….
let me work.
Some day.
Grass by Carl Sandburg.
Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.
Shovel them under and let me work—
I am the grass; I cover all.
And pile them high at Gettysburg
And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun.
Shovel them under and let me work.
Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor:
What place is this?
Where are we now?
I am the grass.
Let me work.
Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.
Shovel them under and let me work—
I am the grass; I cover all.
And pile them high at Gettysburg
And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun.
Shovel them under and let me work.
Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor:
What place is this?
Where are we
I am the grass.
Let me work.
No Haiku For You 