#8 Tapestry

Tapestry

Tree

Nothing out there could make me more content

Then my sugar berry tree’s sweet summer scent

In the season its leaves, so lush and green

Butterflies flutter as hummingbirds sing

With shade from the leaves and branches to climb

These days off school are a glorious time

That front yard of my childhood, a kind memory

Made even sweeter by that sugar berry tree

Swing

I would play in that tree for days on end

So many games to play, worlds to pretend
I was king of the jungle, lord of the land

All of nature’s beasts obeyed my command

To add to such a marvelous thing

My papa attached to it a spectacular swing

Back and forth, to and fro

Flying around with nowhere to go

Love

First loves often become memories of the past

But my first love was also my last

A beautiful gorgeous blue eyed girl

Her presence made my insides swirl

I invited her to my yard to play

We sat in that swing, what a glorious day

I held her close all through the night

Love blossoming between black and white

Stares

Sitting on the swing, I stared deep in to her eyes
Pondering how such feelings could arise

It couldn't get better, just us on that swing

On top of the world, I felt like a king

As time moved on, passerby’s would stare
they’d mutter they’re judgments while casting a glare

Apparently they didn't like what they saw

I was a young black man, but I broke no law

  

Night

They burst through the door just past midnight

I was asleep in my bed, unaware of my plight

My love in tears she pointed and accused

I stared in disbelief, completely confused

A man with a gun yelled, “Is this him right here?”

He grabbed for my arm, I was frozen in fear

“Your filthy hands touched my daughter!”

He led me outside like a lamb to the slaughter

Yard

My front yard was now the place of my trial

Guilty the verdict by the rank and file

I guess I committed an unspeakable crime

But for my sentence, I would not do time

I looked at my love, but she wouldn't look back

I could not understand what brought this attack

I looked at my tree, for some sort of hope

But all I could see was my tree swings rope

Rope

Oh sweet sugar berry tree

All of their eyes stared murderously

I still don’t understand what I did wrong

Why society deemed that I can’t belong

They strung me up with the rope from my swing

And turned me in to a ghostly being

Who knew that love could bring such spite?

This is no place for black and white

This poem is inspired by (but not based on) the story of Lennon Lacy, a 17 year old who was found hanging from a swing in North Carolina. The police concluded it was suicide, however, further evidence is pointing to this being a lynching. In 2014. A lynching. In the United States. Terrible.