Train Ride To Hope
by J. Joy "Sistah Joy" Matthews Alford
A 7:30 A.M. train ride
Inaugurated by a commemorative fare card
Bearing the likeness of a man
Who believed in hope and change
Maybe the time had come
For a nation whose yesterday
Spurned right at its own peril
A nation that, despite dreams and visions
Proclaimed before broad witness in light of day
Rejected truth 'til civil disarray
Dictated that only change could counter catastrophe
Perhaps this would be the train ride
To usher that nation
To the dawn of a new day
A sea of humanity
Like ants, satellite images would depict dots
Blurred into huddles to become muddled masses
I was proud to be one of the millions
Knowing I had neither ticket nor hope of
Seeing anything more than a jumbotron
I trudged on
Under the 3rd Street tunnel
Loosing, early in the day, Beverly and Jayne,
My comrades in arms
But I moved on
This is my hometown, I know this place
Placing phone calls of reassurance
When intermittent phone service allowed
I pressed on
Moving from one undesignated
Vantage point to another
Both the Blue Gate and
the Silver Capital Viewing Area
Were inaccessible
But how could they close The Mall
…The entire Mall?
But my guardian angels were on it!
Like the pride, yearning and desperate belief
Of all who withstood the frigid cold
Even the batteries of Chicky’s hand-held
Neon orange radio knew not to fade
Sylvia’s ungloved hand must have been frozen,
As she held the small prize just above our heads
Standing behind me Jasmine asked if I could
Move just a bit to the side
So she too could hear
We each prayed for a clear signal
Sylvia said a glove would restrict digital dexterity
As she deftly rotated the dial with precision
Not chancing to miss a single word
That would mark this moment in history
So it was to be
This anointed neon orange electronic device
Clearly appointed by Divine providence
To appear next to me
Whether held in Sylvia’s hand or God’s
Did the job of unseen jumbotrons
The four of us fellowshipped and communed
We were from DC, Colorado and Texas
Sisters of different generations and races
Silently sharing tears as Aretha sang
Sharing hugs and hopes as we listened
To introductions, oaths and speeches
Believing the words we heard
On a small radio would take us
Beyond Metro stops, Malls and trains
Knowing that, on this day,
Hope had transported a people
To a place where they believed
That the time for change had come
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