My grandmothers were strong
They followed ploughs and bent to toil
They moved through fields sowing seeds
They touched Earth and grain grew
They were full of sturdiness and song
My grandmothers were strong
They spun cotton into thread
On the charkha
And made cloth to dress their children
My grandmothers were strong
They milked cows and buffaloes
And boiled the milk to
Make curd and then butter
And fed the family with
Milk, butter milk and butter
They loved their families
Yes, my grandmothers were strong
Margaret Walker
Category: Poetry