Strange fruit

Photo by Photoholgic on Unsplash

That old taunting tree
looks at me solidly
looks right through me
makes me feel uncertainty —
no longer draws a curtain ‘bout me-
climb up to the heaven with me
sink to the swamp with me,
be frank even if cirumspectingly
‘bout that old taunting tree,
with blood on the leaves.
The history of slavery
slides into view I see
cos that there old taunting tree
was once the hanging tree
and brings it all back home to me.