Candlelight (Cloud collection)/Blind Mammy

by Virginia Woodward Cloud

BLIND MAMMY

Blind Mammy

Ah listens en Ah heahs ez Ah sets in mah do',
Eben ef Ah ain't got mah eyes;
Things is a-happenin', same ez befo',
Ain' tek me by S'prise,—
           No, miss, not dis chile!

De honeysuckle bloom 'tel it trail on de groun';—
'Cause de bees buzzes low, en roun' en roun',
De gum-tree's raid, en it's blowin' all about;—
'Cause de leaves done caught in de ole rain-spout;
Ah heerd it las' night, when ole rain-crow again
Had hollered hissef hoa'se, 'tel it des had ter rain!
De wile-goose's startin' on his trabbles down be Bay;—
He gotter tell eberybody, all 'long de way!
Seem lak things does a heap o' talkin', too,
'Bout dey affairs,—same ez me'n you.

Dey's a white moon risin' ober Pine Cone Hill,—
'Cause Ah'll feel it on mah face ef Ah sets real still . . .
En when dat's riz, dey's sumpin' else Ah'll heah
(But, Ah ain't sayin' nuffin'). She'll come real neah
Lak a sof' win' blowin' pas' mah shumac bush,
Runnin' down de lane in huh lil slippers,—hush!
Ah'll heah de bresh cracklin' unner somebody's feet,
Hurryin' thoo de woods where dey two gwine ter meet.
Back she'll run presumply,—"O, mammy! How's yo' healf?"
En Ah ain't sayin' nuffin' fo' all de king's wealf!
But, when de young uns brags about a weddin' come nex' fall,
Ah gwine say,—"Dat's nuffin'. Ah knowed it fus' ob all!"
Eyes ain't eberything; ears is a heap
Ef you listens real good; en befo' Ah goes ter sleep,
Ah minds about a time when a bline man come
En de Lawd tech his eyes, en sen' him back home;
Den mebby, some mor'nin,' wid de passin' ob de night,
Dey'll come a tech on mine,—en Ah'll wake to de light!
  Ah listens en Ah heahs, ez Ah sets in ma do',
  Eben ef Ah ain't got mah eyes,
  Things is a-happenin', same ez befo',
  Ain't tek me by s'prise,—
             No, miss, not dis chile!