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for Aaron Henry and Mrs. Hamer

SOUTH

ALICE WALKER

Here we have watched ten thousand
seasons
come and go
and unmarked graves atangled
in the brush
turn our own legs to trees
vertical forever between earth
and sun.
Here we are not quick to disavow
the pull of field and wood
and stream.
We are not quick to turn
upon our dreams.


PARCHMAN, MISSISSIPPI

EUGENE PERKINS

On Sunday afternoon
the sun is scorching hot
in Parchman, Mississippi
and black men in dirty blue trousers
linger with relatives and friends
recapitulating their past week ordeals
working from dawn to dusk
in red fields that stretch
for miles and bear the sweat
and blood of overworked muscles

of cold eggs served at night
and the taunts of drivers
armed with shotguns to
prevent men from violating
the cruel laws of enslavement

of the cold dungeon
called Alcatraz and the
bodies it has claimed

of the brutal killings
that become tradition
and the code of servitude
that strips them of manhood

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Transcription Notes:
---------- Reopened for Editing 2024-02-14 16:49:55