deepundergroundpoetry.com
swinging in the breeze
down south in my small town
everybody old enough is a murderer
or at least an accessory to the crime
grandma said they wasn't even there
but they knew who was
and what they did
with the rope
and the black boy
on the tree downtown
where pretty families
relax on blue blanket
sunny summer afternoons
eating the fresh fruit of today
while the putrid ghost of the past
left to rot on the branch
for three august yesterdays
swings in the breeze
everybody old enough is a murderer
or at least an accessory to the crime
grandma said they wasn't even there
but they knew who was
and what they did
with the rope
and the black boy
on the tree downtown
where pretty families
relax on blue blanket
sunny summer afternoons
eating the fresh fruit of today
while the putrid ghost of the past
left to rot on the branch
for three august yesterdays
swings in the breeze
Published 15th Feb 2014
| Edited 4th Jul 2016
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 5
reading list entries 2
comments 6
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The author encourages honest critique.
15th Feb 2014 7:27pm
Anonymous
15th Feb 2014 8:12pm
The ghosts of the pasts still linger and no matter how much we scrub and wash, rain comes down, some stains stay on to remind us the painful echos and unheard voices.... especially in small towns.
15th Feb 2014 8:47pm
15th Feb 2014 9:11pm
The stench of the south is often lost in her magnolias, blue grass, coastal dunes and even BBQ ...
... But when you look hard at certain trees you can still shadows of the strange fruit that once was ripe from its boughs.
Poignant piece of work.
... But when you look hard at certain trees you can still shadows of the strange fruit that once was ripe from its boughs.
Poignant piece of work.
15th Feb 2014 9:15pm
16th Feb 2014 1:30am
