After a long, work day, I went home at five.
An hour passed when I saw my wife.
We chatted, and then ate.
I didn't want to be late.
I gave the kids their bath and made my way.
Going to meet the guys
This was my free time.
Realizing the meeting was set for 9.
I saw friends of mine getting in line.
We gathered plywood from a nearby sawmill.
Tugging the planks up some hill
On the edge of town (It's getting dark now.)
Seeing a few bystanders hanging around
They slipped on bedsheets and nightgowns.
The wood we carried was made into a cross.
It set pretty sturdy on a small hill of moss.
The wet grass didn't give.
Our structure was lit.
Flames crackled high before our very eyes.
Author notes
This is an example of gatherings (in the South) during the Civil Rights Movement.
A contest entry
- Eyes by BabyBun.
450 points, ended June 19, 2008, 36 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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This is the description of the life ..quite an impressive work..I love it...well done..and thanks for sharing it..
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I was going
to stop reading this poem, as I have a problem with 'men who do not outgrow their boyhood'!!, but then I decided to read on, and what stunning ending it was. I salute you for both the write and for giving me much food for thought. Frans
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Shock
This took me by surprise. I knew it was leading me somewhere but I didn't think it would take me to that result. I like how it didn't go into further detail about possible victims, just the true revealing of the man's destination was appropriate enough.
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You know.
You know those images have probably haunted more than just the black people for whom the burning cross was intended to intimidate. Because many white people who were poor were also in fear. Today I hope crosses being constructed is done to remind people of the fact that Christ died for all men not just one set. And when final judgement comes they will atone they can be sure of that.
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A Frightful Image!
It is necessary for us to remember the past so that it is not repeated. I also read BabyBun's poem "Jim Crow" which was also a powerful image. Racism still needs to be fought. It is wonderful to use your talent to combat it.
I once wrote in a poem in my book "Bits And Barges" that culture should not be used to harbor racial hate. I believe faith, hope and love can help us remove stumbling blocks to society's growth. Peace.
Oh yes, read my poem entitled "Still In America."
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