Cootchie, Miss Lula’s servant, lies in marl
black into the white she went
below the surface of the coral-reef.
Her life was spent
in caring for Miss Lula, who is deaf,
eating her dinner off the kitchen sink
while Lula ate hers off the kitchen table.
The skies were egg-white for the funeral
and the faces sable.
Tonight the moonlight will alleviate
the melting of the pink wax roses
planted in tin cans filled with sand
placed in a line to mark Miss Lula’s losses
but who will shout and make her understand?
Searching the land and sea for someone else,
the lighthouse will discover Cootchie’s grave
and dismiss all as trivial; the sea, desperate,
will proffer wave after wave.
