Poems by Clare de Fontroy

Living as an expatriate in Paris during the Great Depression and World War II, this daughter of Afro-American slaves penned poetry about her up-bringing in the harsh days of the South as it was falling during the civil War.  The first is about Confederate troop coming into her yard as a little girl and she sees they are buy boys, her own age, conscripted to fight in a war they little understand. The second poem is about recognition for her and her people in Europe at a time when they could not earn a penny in America. Her work can be found in the House Next Door.

               Two Poems by Clare de Fontroy

                         The yard

They came into the yard today.

All dressed in gray.

All dressed in gray.

Children. Boys.

Just my age-

Led away to fight a war

Led away to save a cause

Children with not a toy gun

But with the fire and

With real brimstone.

They came into the yard today

All dressed in gray

All dressed in gray.

Boys just like my brothers two

Led to kill the Yankee man

Led to die—- that was the plan

Children not with a prayer of their own

But with fire

 and loathsome brimstone.

They came into the yard today

Some were dying.

Some were crying.

They had but one march to make.

Back to where they’d come.

Small boys heading home

With real guns

And real wounds

And fire

And brimstone.

I asked my mamma who they were

And she covered my eyes and said

not a word.

They came into the yard today.

But soon they were gone.

But soon they were gone.

Their march was done.

Seasons

Seasons for Russians.

    Seasons for Jews.

   Seasons for Arabs and

  Seasons for you.

There comes a time and a place for everyone.

Seasons.

For me.

Someday they’ll thank me.

Thank Michael Angelo.

Someday Mozart

And Wild Bill Coty and Buffalo Bill, too.

Someday they’ll know them

Someday know

Me.

Season for the black man

Seasons for the Lost.

Time for everyone.

Almost.