Facial expressions are contagious.
The chuckle of his amusing grim was music to my ears.
It was deep and robust.
Uncle Johnny said few word, but when he was happy his facial hair
stood on end with a twisted smile with a twinkle in his eye.
He was very kind to my family, my aunt was his wife.
I named my child after her, good godparent elated about the baby.
Amusing gestures would fill the atmosphere at their dining room table.
Now that they’re my ancestors; I chuckle when I think about their southern draw.
How they ask, “how you doing…?”
My aunt Bee was the silent one, but oh she could pray.
I listened at her as she laid across her bed.
The call was clear to Jesus she would pray.
I felt good, secure, safe to know angels from Heaven was on their.
The happy faces of my clan, gave me a foundation that sustains my pursuit of happiness.
Grandma Katie’s brothers and sisters are the rock on which my liberty stands,
I won’t tolerate white folks taking my vote from me. I can’t be sure Grandma ever got the chance.