The Salem Witch Trials

There were soft whispers,
of the rumor kind,
that travelled behind my turned back.
I closed my eyes
to the hard truth,
and focused on my two pences
and shabby threadbare dresses.

Of calloused hands
that delivered babes,
screaming and crying into a blue world,
that brushed a sick woman’s hair
away from her crazed blue eyes.

Of calloused hands
that hang loosely by my side,
the rope grabs my neck,
stringing me higher and higher.

They all come to watch,
trousers and skirts alike,
they watch and laugh,
a mad glint to their eyes.
Others stand there, mouths dry,
wondering which one of them will be next.

I laugh
when the sky turns black
crows across my vision
screaming and cawing
their sharp beak
tearing at my ruined flesh
and God stands there
impassive and watching
as I spit curses at him
consorting with the Devil
of flames and fire of hell
the rope strangles
i can see eyes and the light
blue flowers and bright flashes
the rope a broken prayer
the pain and the pain and the pain

i’m gone now.

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