Hanging Tree
There is an ancient oak, outside some hallowed ground:
The hanging tree, once struck by lightning bolts, seems dead -
Its trunk is hollowed out, yet leaves can still be found,
Just like a corpse with hair that’s growing on its head.
I have a tale to tell - it’s from my long gone youth,
And that decrepit tree was looking strong and stout.
It sounds a silly tale - I swear it is the truth -
Though in my younger days, at times, I had my doubt.
Once, in my courting days, I walked home in a storm,
And heard the village clock, that chimed the midnight hour.
As lightning forked, I longed to be home, dry and warm.
I wasn’t drunk nor had my faculties turned sour,
But in a flash, I saw a figure in that tree -
Distorted, hideous, a hanged man’s purple face -
And yet more lightning showed it crystal clear to me.
As thunder boomed, I ran as if to win a race.
Another flash of light and I was not alone:
The hanging man stood there, thick rope around his neck.
I shivered, swore and shook, afraid, chilled to the bone,
And recognised the man: the killer Nathan Beck -
I’d seen him hanged to death, a year ago that day.
He said, ‘I swore revenge, I knew I could come back.
‘I’ll get my vengeance now, and you will have to pay.’
He put the noose around my neck, the rope still slack.
The noose was getting tight, he dragged me to the tree,
Attempts to fight no good, as though I were a child -
I cursed and kicked and punched, while struggling to get free.
I fought hard for my life, the thunder ever wild.
My life flashed by my eyes, a man about to die:
I thought of family and of my sweetheart June.
And sturdy young man that I was, began to cry.
(I nearly fainted like a maiden in a swoon).
In blinding flashing light, I found the Devil near.
He smiled and looking proud, he beckoned Beck to him,
And Nathan Beck was gone - I won’t forget that leer.
I must have passed out then, my memories are dim.
I came round in a daze, beneath the burnt out tree,
The noose was gone. It was a cloudless dawn that day.
I saw two farmhands grin. They shook their heads at me.
‘Too much to drink last night,’ I heard one laugh and say.
Copyright © Jack Horne | Year Posted 2011
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