This may be the last time,

This may be the last time. It may be the last time, I don’t know…

Ohhhhh, I remember when I was a little girl in church in the middle pew. Smack dab in the middle. Hair in pig tails. “All rise.” Fellowship time. Sister Washington bangin’ away on that old piano. Time to sing: This May Be The Last Time. My favorite. Our voices come together as one. Mostly off key but still one. The Lord hears our cry. Better when we raise our voices together. The Lord hears my prayers. Oh I know what people say about me. The Lord hears me and I hear him right back. I got the gift. Just like my mama and her mama before her. “Those Francois women…witches all of em…” Kids would tell the teacher I was giving them the evil eye in school. That’s all it took for the teacher to give me the strap. But the nasty stuff folks say don’t change nothin’: the dead talk and they talk to me. There’s nothin’ wrong with bein’ dead jus’ like there’s nothin’ wrong with bein’ alive. Both sides want to be heard. I’m just one of the ones that can hear ev’rybody. Even if what they sayin’ ain’t worth half a penny.