Faye Sizemore

THE MESSENGER

“I’m tired, Mamma”
The little boy begged “Let me go play
Just for a few minutes today
I’ll just be down the lane a ways.”
What he saw there left him in a daze
The troops walked slowly
Slowly enough for him to see
They wore dusty coats of blue
That was when he thought it could be true
Things he had heard… Rumors of being free
The boy ran…. with tears on his face
Cotton field sweat still on his brow
Faster, he went… Even faster now
Smoke from Atlanta was strong on the wind
“Mamma, Mamma the cannons are coming
And they’re surely going to win
The Army’s on the road just behind me”
He grasped her hand and slapped his knee
“Mamma… Mamma, we’re all going to be free”

Inspired by the poem, “God Speed, Susannah” ~ ©Copyright August 27, 2008 by Terry D. Sutherland