rotting black men hang
from sturdy limbs of oaks,
their eyes burning holes
through dark shadows
of pernicious grins.
black passersby gaze
at dangling parts
and open wounds
now covered in flies.
they wonder whether luck
will spare them another day.
fear.
it must find its feet
in railways leading
north.
black terror
rumbles along
the tracks, finding
its way to distant
shores, where
the desperate
meet hope.
even with the promise
of light to break
through darkness,
memory somehow
remembers how to
suffocate the soul.
the heart refuses
to die, pumping
feet and arms
ever forward;
drumming along
the tracks inside
the light of
perennial
dawn.
where
there is
faith there
will be light,
humming
like a bird.