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Backbones Rising
I saw them,
there were so many
young and old
sick and broken
a sea of black bodies
hunched over
and shuffling through
a thick dense fog
of worry and bewilderment
their heads bobbed in unison
wafting and dipping
a learned behavior of survival
unable to carry anything with them
but the truth
their value had been reduced
to the degree of sweat
dripping from their brow
their faces were creased
like old church
folding sweat fans
many had backs and arms
burned and sliced
drizzling with the infection
of indifference
their legs were puffed and swollen
and skin stretched tightly around
ready to burst
their eyes darting nervously
as they stumbled forward
slow steps
the fog
smelled of damp bitter earth
it clung
to their sweat-soaked skin
their calloused feet
trudged over a muddy marsh
of body and blood
of brothers before them
each step echoed horrific screams
of last breaths taken
trapped forever in death
in the stillness
of that humid
hunted night
I saw them all
dislocated backbones
rising
cracking and jointing
they plodded onward
to a stoic
melodic murmur
marching towards
a brutal
deliberate fate
the muffled sounds
heard
as skin shivering
words
that
sorrowed my heart
a simple faint whisper
of
“Why do they hate?”
Copyright ©
Gabrielle Jordan
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