My brothers knew <br />The things you know. <br />I did not scorn <br />learning them; <br />It’s just my mind <br />Was busy being trained <br /> <br />For “Other Things”: <br /> <br />Poetry, Philosophy, Literature. <br />Survival, for a girl. <br /> <br />But now, <br />What a relief <br />To see you understand <br />The ways <br />Of horses <br />Their shyness <br />& hatred <br />Of <br />Loneliness: <br /> <br />That you will not <br />Hesitate <br />To rescue <br />An old horse, <br />Dying on <br /> <br />His feet <br />& <br />That you will <br />Cheerfully <br />Wash him, <br />Aged <br />& <br />Incontinent <br />Head <br />To <br />Toe. Missing <br />With your bucket <br />& <br />Rag <br />Not <br />One <br />Hidden <br />Crevice <br />As he <br />Trembles <br />& weeps. <br /> <br />What peace <br />To see <br />Raising chickens <br />Does not <br />Mystify you <br />and <br />Hot water heaters <br />& their ways <br />Are well known; <br />That electricity <br />& how it <br />Works <br />Is something <br />Within <br />Your grasp. <br /> <br />That you can <br />Get a car <br />To run <br />By poking <br />It in <br />A few mysterious <br />Places <br />Under <br />The hood. <br /> <br />That you can <br />Fix a <br />Broken <br />Anything: battery, truck, stove, <br />Door, fridge, lamp, chicken coop hinge <br />While teaching me <br />The ins and outs <br />Of Opera <br />Or <br />While singing <br />Lusty <br />Italian <br />Tenor <br />That <br />Shakes <br />The walls. <br /> <br />That you can <br />Sit, comfy, <br />Unperturbed <br />By traffic <br />In the womb-like <br />Back seat <br />Of my <br />Aging <br />Chariot <br />While I drive <br />& you <br />Ride <br />The silver <br />Black <br />& Golden <br />Horses <br />Of <br />Your <br />Trumpet.<br /><br />Alice Walker<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/working-class-hero/
