For Women’s History Month
Remember when you woke up one morning around the 17th or 18th week of pregnancy and thought, “Coffee sounds good”? Remember how relieved you felt at the thought? You walked to Starbucks a few blocks away from your apartment; the one in downtown Silver Spring that’s across the street from a bookstore. Since it was your day off from teaching you thought maybe a coffee and, since there’s probably not a table available, you’d walk around the bookstore for a while. You brought a journal with you, just in case there was a table. Do you remember? You always bring something to work on. I know you.
And good thing, because there was a table. A nice, large one that didn’t wobble when you leaned in and wrote. That almost never happens anymore. Remember that first sip of coffee after 18 weeks of being so sad that it didn’t taste good anymore? Remember how happy you were that it tasted full, and rich and wonderful, and you leaned back for a minute with both hands around the cup and you let out a sigh, didn’t you? You thought maybe pregnancy wasn’t so freaky now that you you’d heard the heartbeat, got over that general malaise, could feel a little bump where your jeans are supposed to snap shut. You started thinking about buying a onesie or set of pajamas. Maybe some cute shoes for the baby.
Then an Aretha Franklin song came on. Remember? “Spirit in the Dark” was the song. You love that song. You love Aretha Franklin. She’s the greatest, right? Well, Stevie Wonder’s the greatest. Then Sam Cook. But Aretha’s right up there with them, and you just love that “Spirit in the Dark” song. You love the hope in it. All that thinking about the Spirit hanging out in the dark makes you happy, doesn’t it?
You started tapping your foot, I remember. You couldn’t help it. A song you love comes on and you have a hard time keeping control. You noticed a woman putting milk and sugar in her coffee, and she was shaking her hips to Aretha’s voice. She stirred and bopped her head while Aretha sang, “People groovin’, everybody’s moving, just catchin’ the Spirit in the dark.”
Another woman brought her coffee to the milk and sugar counter and she dressed her coffee in time with the music. “Heeyyy,” the first woman said in acknowledgement to the second, and she began stomping her heel so the beat was more pronounced. The second woman smiled and put a hand in the air as she stirred the sugar and the milk with a wooden stirrer in the other. You were pretty sure you were watching the beginning of a friendship and you bopped from side to side ever so slightly so no one would notice, but it’s Aretha and how can you not dance to Aretha?
The women’s coffee was how they wanted it but they stayed, pounding their heels on the floor. One woman turned around, her bracelets jangled in the air while Aretha sang, “Tell me sister? How do you feel? Tell me my brother, brother, brother how do you feel? You feel like dancin’? Get on up and let’s start dancin’!” You lowered your head and a few tears plunked on the “caution contents hot” part of the lid. You looked up to find the women again and they were stomping out of Starbucks with the Spirit and you touched your stomach where the baby was growing and what were thinking? Do you remember? Was it a request? A call, perhaps, as if to say, “Hey, Baby. Let’s not you and I forget this moment, OK?”
Try It: Women’s History Month Prompt
In honor of Women’s History Month, write a poem about a woman (or women) you know (or don’t know), and who had an impact on you.
Photo by Damien Gadal Creative Commons, via Flickr. Post by Callie Feyen.
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