We Were Poor Poem

Thanks to Erin for this poem. It’s by African American Appalachian poet, Patricia A. Johnson, from her book, “Stain My Days Blue.” Another touching account from the margins, the places where we are told we meet Jesus in ‘the least of these.’

SNOW CREAM

if you had told me
the winter it snowed three feet
the same day my older brother turned ten
and mama sent me out with a bowl
i filled to the brim.
she made snow cream
slick as egg white,
specially for my brother
and we sang…

if you had told me then
i would not have believed,
we were poor.