Birmingham Sunday

    Four little girls
Who went to Sunday School that day
And never came back home at all
But left instead
Their blood upon the wall
With splattered flesh
And bloodied Sunday dresses
Torn to shreds by dynamite
That China made aeons ago-
Did not know
That what China made
Before China was ever Red at all
Would redden with their blood
This Birmingham-on-Sunday wall.

    Four tiny girls
Who left their blood upon that wall,
In little graves today await
The dynamite that might ignite
The fuse of centuries of Dragon Kings
Whose tomorrow sings a hymn
The missionaries never taught Chinese
in Christian Sunday School
To implement the Golden Rule.

    Four little girls
Might be awakened someday soon
By songs upon the breeze
As yet unfelt among magnolia trees