Rosa Parks (1913-2005) Poem by Leo Briones

She was
a little woman,
not really built for this;
and the secret is she
really didn’t mind.
After all, the rear
seats were firm
much better
on a back
sore from
all her sewing.
But that day,
her hands ached,
her ankles swollen,
and the back of that bus
looked so far away.
So when that ole’ boy
said, “Move, ”
she reached over
and opened the window,
gave a holler that scared
a murder of crows
off the branches of
a long leaf pine—
funny thing is,
them black crows
never came back again.