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Saturday, January 18, 2020

Flying Free



can you hear
that tinkling on the wind......?
        like the furtive below-deck rattle of chains
        on slave ships of the past

I planted a spirit tree
near the bayou,
where ghost-wails and lamentations
moan every full moon:

         mothers crying for their babies
         children sold for dollar bills
         grandmothers, weeping for them all

In the clink-clink-clink
of late summer afternoons,
hear determined spoons digging tunnels
out of captivity,

        the echoing lament of souls
        longing for freedom

In the fiery blaze of four p.m.
when the light turns the colour of fried butter
look closely; see souls emerging
from all the shining bottles

       to the muted clink-clink-clink
       watch the rise of age-old spirits
       finally flying free


for Shay at The Sunday Muse

Old southern legend tells of bottle trees, where evil spirits were said to get trapped in the bottles, keeping them away from the houses; they were destroyed by the morning sun.  When the wind blows, and a sound emerges from the botles, it was said to be the moans of the evil spirits.

African slaves began hanging bottles in trees in the American south in the 17th century. They usually chose crepe-myrtle trees, significant to them through Bible references, representing escape from slavery and freedom.

As I protest captivity,  I took poetic license and had good spirits freeing themselves from the bottles, rather than being trapped.

16 comments:

  1. I like the idea of the souls emerging from the bottles. They too desire their freedom, as we all do!!

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  2. Not pleasant to read, Sherry. More unpleasant still to think about these things. There is no guarantee that things will get better than worse.
    I have saved up bottles, mostly wine bottles, for building a bottle tree but I have put this off. I was not aware of the myth behind the tree when placed near a home. Guess I'd best read up and the finish my tree.
    ..

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    1. You could have posted this on the current Poets United (old title, sorry) as the theme is to be mythology. Yours is great, mine may be a bit squishy.
      ..

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  3. You knocked this out of the ball park! You have been on a roll. The past and the present are artfully presented here and the lead in line with the question is perfect.

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  4. What a beautiful freedom song yet the needed shades and pains are there.

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  5. What an amazing poem of freedom this is Sherry! The visions displayed are vivid and brilliantly crafted! I love this and your different take on the bottles.

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  6. The clinking of those bottle sure echoes of chains linking to slaves ... Thanks for tuning my ear to it. There is nothing about the American South that is not about slavery, or the shadow of it. The trees are still there, the lines and the bottles, and the sound in ears locked tightly down. Thanks for flying it free.

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  7. "..when the light turns the colour of fried butter
    look closely; see souls emerging
    from all the shining bottles.." I feel fear as well as compassion here, for it's hard to be comfortable with the dead, especially those whose blood is on our hands. Loved this, Sherry.

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  8. What Hedge said.

    Thanks so much for being part of Sunday Muse, Sherry.

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  9. I love this tribute. I especially love the haunting lines:
    In the clink-clink-clink
    of late summer afternoons,
    hear determined spoons digging tunnels
    out of captivity,

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  10. An amazing poem! You opened the doorway for me to hearing the past in the present! Wow!

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    1. Facebook wouldn't let me post this, and is now blocking my petition to open your link! I will continue the effort. This poem needs to be shared.

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  11. Oh, you have captured the emotion, the need to make a bottle tree. The oppressed slaves know their blood will carry their agony into the following generations.

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  12. This is extraordinary, Sherry. the clinking of the bottles relating to slave chains, and the "light turns the color of fried butter". I'm glad they are free in the end.

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  13. Oh ... oh, Sherry. This is one of your finest!!!!!

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