No. 64

The bus driver, Black Mother, waits
For the train to arrive,
The passengers to become her children:
She remembers me, calls out my stop,
"Santa Clara and First,"
Not far from St. James' Park,
Historic San Jose.

She watches me leave and carries
The other children of her run
To their appointed places,
Heavy in her heart
For the daughter who suffers
From surgery, from chemo, from surgery.

Dear Mother of God, how beautiful
You are in the Cathedral of St. Joseph:
What street of this besainted city
Will you name for the Black Mother,
Who cannot save her daughter from pain,
Who drives her bus so kindly,
Speaking gently to the old White Woman,
Who, like herself, cannot save her
Daughter from pain?

[Poem by Virginia McKinnon Mann. May, 1995. Photo of the Virgin of Montserrat via Wikimedia.]