I once read a book
on the Red River War –
with lush banks, and
the hanging trees.
I continually wondered
why people gather
without hats,
yet covered feet
to feel the soi/u/ls.
Who taught them
to cover their head, not look up, become
more than witness, even speaker.
to declare themselves The Light.
Does Light not truth from the soiled ground up?
Is humility not true protection?
I continually wonder
Is God a money tree, and we
cling to the green’s shadow so tightly
to stand naked in the bank’s mud soils us into sin – and more
We believe to not stand is the meaning of life?
This Feb. 22, 2018, file photo shows a bridge that spans the Apalachee River at Moore’s Ford Road where in 1946 two young black couples were stopped by a white mob who dragged them to the riverbank and shot them multiple times in Monroe, Ga. The gruesome lynching is prompting a U.S. court to consider whether federal judges can order grand jury records unsealed in old cases with historical significance. (AP Photo/David Goldman, File)
source: “Court weighing whether judge can unseal lynching records,” by Kate Brumback – Associated Press
Hokis | Poetry 