MISS BEULAH'S SONG

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"Good morning, Miss Beulah!"
"I sing my song.  Don't nobody mess with me."
Hands clapping…feet patting…head swaying…

"Hey, Beulah.  Do you know me?…I love you."
"I know you, Mother.  You won't hurt me.
You not my Mother, but you won't hurt me.
I just sing my song."
Hands clapping…feet patting…head swaying…

"Beulah, this is my company, my nephew."
"I know him.  Yes, man, I know you.
You a good man. You'll treat me right.
Won't you?
You be good to me.  Yes…Yes…
You'll take me back to my home.
Won't you?
M-m-m-m.  Yes…Yes…M-m-m-m.
Won't you?
You won't hurt me."
Hands clapping…feet patting…head swaying…

"Beulah, come on with me, now. It's bath time."
"I'm just singing my song.  Don't mess with me.
I know what you want.  Go on!
I'm sitting here where I can sing.
Don't need no bath.  No…No…"
Gnarled hands clapping…slow feet patting…gray head swaying…

Beulah, clinging to her song, keeps time
To the beat of memory's music from so long ago,
In the hope of a better day to come.
by: Diane F. Thompson
(July 8, 2006)
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All pages are © 2019 Diane Thompson