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Jacksonville
Jacksonville, at this hour, tell me
Do you miss me where the river flows
Through Florida's tangled history
Where the Mocama cotton grows
Do you see me driving early
To teach where the clansman name holds
Such reverence in history
For black children midst fear's bright folds
Do you see me sitting slowly
Where the St Johns flows with strange name
Saturiwa gone, and boldly
Bedford Forrest here is proclaimed
I would revolt against Ribault
Against Laudonniere as well
By Seminole passion I fault
The harsh Conquistadores hell
Of France and Spain, and British rule
And that loathesome flag flying still
In the South where Northeners rule
In silence to the cruel will.
Left my home in Duval to breathe
Without the poison of the race
From white to white the land they cede
Timucua's will not a trace
And so may you erase me still
My love for river and landscape
The people that my days did fill
When I your children tried to shape
The bridges now I want to cross
Communion cup I long to share
My house left there to gather moss
And friendships my heart still holds dare
O Jacksonville, Jacksonville dear
My heart pants for you through the night
The Southern climate sweet and rare
Saturiwa by the fire light.
Copyright ©
David Smalling
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