Rockaway Baby
Rock away baby
in your tree top,
When Earth winds blow
our cradle can't stop
And all Her Queen's horses
and all old bald white men
can't put Her regathered
together again.
Her welts raise our stories
of struggle and sin,
our strengths are new songs
about old wounds gone wrong.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
