We traveled through the dark of night,
Not for us the day,
When we could be recognized
As slaves who’d run away;
From place to place the woman led
Us through creeks and wilderness,
Kept us hidden through the day,
In fear, I must confess–
For she was dark the same as us
And still she knew the trail,
“The Underground” was what she said,
I knew that we’d grown frail–
We hid in barns and cellars,
Sometimes in caves and fallen trees,
And when there was no shelter,
We burrowed deep in piles of leaves;
We lost all track of days and nights,
Until the journey finally end,
When Miz Tubman took us to
a house, she said, “‘mongst Friends”
They took us in and fed us and
they bathed and dressed us too
Our guide bade us goodbye, there;
She still had work to do.
We were just too little girls
But I remember it all well,
When we was delivered
Into Heaven, out of Hell.
Sandra Lee Smith/originally written August 15, 2012
