Mississippi River Nightmare…

Uncovered and wrinkled is my sack, a

gigantic hump on my back.  Frost

clutches to these old rags, my body is

covered with burlap bags.

 

My flesh like ashes, my face tinged with blue,

and my chest rattles, my lungs sucking in the

morning dew.  I have traveled on the railroad

back and forth, does not matter where, south

or north.

 

I sometimes walk city streets when they are

dark and dead, yet the side of a railroad is

where I make my bed.  I eat my food from old

tin cans; I will steal candy from little hands.

 

I scream for the warmth I see coming from the

riverbank, a bright fire, from this cold I do tire.

I think that I am burning, I smell smoldering hair,

and my arms are thrashing in the air.

 

I see evil darkness, what is this madness, I feel

spiritually ill, I gasp in horror when I realize that

I am dead.  Here on this cold and damp riverbank,

alas… someone has severed my head.

 

©2013.annjohnsonmurphree

 

 

HONEYSUCKLE MEMORIES

All eBooks at the address below:

 

http://www.amazon.com/Ann-Johnson-Murphree/e/B00CGBLQZO/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_2?qid=1375763518&sr=8-2

 

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