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



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