//\\//\\ Harvest Moon //\\//\\

Circa 1858

The heat of her welt-thickened thighs

Still stacked around him, Eli is lashed with pride

He knows she has already planted swatches

Of scented cloth & Bible passages

For him to recover later

He knows she is beyond the field

Of dingy-white clouds—free of hip-bag

Thrashings, Overseer's eyes

Mauling her bent body

He knows she has sped against

The flowing river, toes barely kissing the ground

He knows she is now tucked safely

In the bowels of freedmen's train—

Redemption coats his tongue

© Stacy M. Floyd