Traveling eastward on highway 13, passing <br />uninhabited-it seems- railroad tracks <br />and quaint white churches, steeples <br />humbly making signs of the cross. <br /> <br />Looking down at her black skin wondering, <br />Why not one white church is followed <br />by a single colored one…Hmm? <br />was it god's design or man's...white churches, <br />colored churches...Hmm? <br /> <br />The poetic architect quickly dismantles such thoughts... <br />centering her mind on nature's creation: <br />The brown cones dropping of <br />trees, needles dropping of pine <br />brown grass dead asleep <br />on the ground, as evening <br />progressed, we pressed on <br />leaving life in winter-wonderland <br /> <br />Passing by red, green, and white illuminated homes; <br />luminous reindeers and round-belly Santas, <br />Seeming to announce a Ho, Ho, Ho, and a Merry Christmas! <br />Unawakening the sleeping children in the back. <br />We continued eastward… <br /> <br /> <br />Merry Christmas everyone! <br /> <br />December 27,2007<br /><br />Almedia Knight Oliver<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/highway-13/
