Strange Lands

Sat, 11/23/2019 - 14:56 -- RonnieL

Sun cast black silhouettes standing proud on cement

auction blocks

Sweltering heat make dark skin sweat in mid morning dew

Iron shackles weigh heavy on weary limbs trembling,

teeth and body examined like precious livestock sold to highest bidder

Well dressed gents in tall top hats clutch greenbacks

in sweaty palms

Infectious laughter gleefully erupt, elated with

purchase of human cargo 

Tear fall on cheek as families divided. Master Johnson

can't afford package deal

Bodies shuffled along piled in wood wagons ready for transport

Rhythmic beat of horses clip clop on dirt roads

replace african drums played

In distance mysterious fields of white covers mother 

earth far as eye can see 

Strange black stick figures mixed in white mist

hunched over stuffing bags hanging off backs   

In forefront, imposing men sit on horses whip in hand  

controls work flow  

On top of hill BIG HOUSE stand grandious like 

pearly gates

Light skin lad barefoot sweeps front porch carefully,   

wrinkled face women fan and pour Miss Sally tall   

glass of Mint Julep

Loud verbal command get out niggers fills air, wood   

wagon abruptly stops   

Tired barefeet stand on red clay dirt covered by    

southern dust trails 

Bewildered and confused mind wonder what is this 

strange land called...AMERICA

Isn't it great?

RonnieL

 

 

 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
My country

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