The poems I'm about to share offer glimpses into to the life of Sarah Stewart, a fictional African American girl born in 1898. Each poem is from Sarah's perspective as if she had written it.

In "Good Day," the year is 1910. Sarah is twelve years old and tells us about a good day, which includes her dear mother and father. Sarah has another reason to celebrate too. Her father has just published his first article in a local colored newspaper (Pittsburgh Courier). The article is about the Border War between the United States and Mexico. Interestingly, this battle is still being fought today ... over Twitter. Some of this information isn't in the poem itself. I'm just providing it as background and to share some of the thought process behind this piece of poetry.

Please note that this particular poem uses enjambment punctuation which means there are no punctuation marks (ironic lol) at the end of each line. Maya Angelou is known for using this technique.

Enjoy!

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Good Day

Deep breaths I draw, my feet meet the floor

Dazed from sleep I still make for the door

Light in eyes, hands to the wall

Firmly gripping the steps to avert a fall

Pans and pots clatter and ring

Voice so sweet, a song she sings

Good morning my sunshine, you are up quite early

I'm sure it must be the rumbling in that little belly

We laugh and laugh, she sings the more

She moves with grace as she does her chore

Air filled with goodness, I take a drag

A tap on my shoulder as though a game of tag

Black and white prints, soldiers I see

Held to his face, the dailies for me

Boldly written on it, a name too familiar

It was a name I bore, the name of my father

I was published at last, his voice was cherry

I floated in his arm as we spun in merry

Good thing I chose today to bake

So let's celebrate with my very own fruit cake

Author's Note

I hope you enjoyed this first poem, written by Sarah Stewart - a key character from my novel "Color". Okay, technically I wrote it, but you know what I mean.  ;)

You may have noticed a few minor grammatical bugs. But since this poem was fictionally written by Sarah at the age of twelve, these little bugs were actually intended.

As always, I welcome your comments and feedback.  :)