Poem: I’ve Got A Home In That Rock – Raymond R. Patterson

I had an uncle, once, who kept a rock in his pocket–
Always did, up to the day he died.
And as far as I know, that rock is still with him,
Holding down some dust of his thighbone.

From Mississippi he’d got that rock, he’d say—
Or, sometimes, from Tennessee: a different place each time
He told it, how he’d picked it up when he first left home—
Running, he’d say—to remind him when times got hard
Enough to make him homesick, what home was really like.

Poem by Raymond R. Patterson, from the book “Poetry of the Negro 1746-1970” edited by Langson Huges and Arna Bontemps

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