“Runaway Slaves”

by Derick Dawson

Tall and loose jointed and quick.

Duck naked through the green hedge of the river

bank and dip in the sandy gullies.

The creek-width, black water of the Alapaha is hidden

By a hedge of tupelos, myrtles, gallberries, and oaks.

Two men burst like a storm

With a cocky swagger

Puffing up like a toad in the flashlight

If your hand goes down, you're goners

Don't shoot them yet, until we find whey they are from

Guess they have nothing else to say

I have been known to give a man his last say.

I ain't even gone stoop to jawing with y'all

with what is right and wrong.

The men marched, peering back with glazed face.

I used to think if people could get to knowing one another,

Could each other's stories, they could come to some

Kind of understanding

The abyss of their screams rising up

Snicks the trigger and fires above his head