I Am Accused Of Tending To The Past

i am accused of tending to the past
as if i made it,
as if i sculpted it
with my own hands. i did not.
this past was waiting for me
when i came,
a monstrous unnamed baby,
and i with my mother's itch
took it to breast
and named it
she is more human now,
learning languages everyday,
remembering faces, names and dates.
when she is strong enough to travel
on her own, beware, she will.

by Lucille Clifton

Comments (6)

What I thought was infinite will turn out to be just a couple of odds and ends, a tiny miscellany, miniature stuff, fragments of novelties, of no great moment. Beautiful poem. Thanks for the sharing.10 for it.
Way of penning is interesting. Beautifully painted. Thanks for sharing and congratulation for the poem of the day.
Interesting poem. Feel very nice while reading. Wordplay is simply amazing.10+++
The long walk! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
i felt very happy by reading this poem
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