One Day They Said

One day they said to the slave girl,
'You're a trusted servant
but don't be familiar with our children.'

Then they said to the suffragette,
'We see how capably you work
but don't ask us for the right to vote.' 

Later they said to the black worker,
'You're a part of this team 
but, girl, use a different wash room and tea urn.'

Next they said to the woman,
'Sister, we see that you're called
but don't stand priestlike at the altar in this church.'

Child, learn that progress is hard for the woman
slowly let down on a rope played out
as promise and tone exceed event.
Use boldly each inch they unwind
as your foot stumbles, 
your heart's in your mouth,
you fear for your safety
and your anger coils quietly inside.

Observe mutely the reason-clad means  
they devise to place new obstacles.
Hang, suspended and wondering,  
while progress lurks, indelible,
at the core of each injustice  
sensed too by your winchers   
who stand certain, unperturbed, 
looking over their shoulders.

And if indignation spurs you
into action, be ready
to meet with a falling,
a bleeding, a clamour,
that hurts
like a birth. 

© Janet Henderson March 2017