The Photograph: A Lynching

is it the cut glass
of their eyes
looking up toward
the new gnarled branch
of the black man
hanging from a tree?

is it the white milk pleated
collar of the woman
smiling toward the camera,
her fingers loose around
a christian cross drooping
against her breast?

is it all of us
captured by history into an
accurate album? will we be
required to view it together
under a gathering sky?

by Lucille Clifton

Comments (2)

This poem has designed a REAL photograph. Wonderful poem.
A sad and poignant poem on a horrible happening in history. There's a subtle power in these words. Nicely written.