Robeson County, North Carolina, 1993, 1939
Brooke Harris
Tom Howard/Margaret Reid Poetry Contest 2018 (view all the winners)
Honorable Mention, Margaret Reid, Traditional Verse
We hiked deep into the back woods, Carolina pines covering
our swollen faces and the pillow cases that pushed
us. Our sandals crunched dry-rotted twigs and fern fronds
whispered hello and goodbye in one breath,
Our necks smelled of bug spray and camp bunks,
metallic sweat and dried blood.
we were ready for the thick mud. Dense and cool
the air felt us before it tightened sharply
on necks. The mud pit was six feet deep
below the moss-covered branches
We had to stand on a buried stump
and we stared at filtered moonlight
high above the oozing black
hanging on one last breath.
Deep and rich it covered us
Shadowed darkness
Cotton in our ears we
shut our eyes
submerged, then
Later we
surfaced,
crossed,
filthy
pure.
