Somewhere in my Memory

long before I was born
came a Dog barking howling
it came far from beyond the ocean into our village

it threw its spider spun
a web without fire-escapes
over the doves playing in the village compound

it was the harvest season
with its smell of food and drink
music and the doves dancing so innocent

the Dog leaped on the doves
tore their feathers till they were wingless
it tied them and led them like a sheep before the shearer

down into the belly of the Monster
into the darkness of loneliness
amid chilly dawns they tossed beneath caves of waves

the Dog brought them to snowy fields
of cotton tobacco sugarcane
the Dog made of then a frozen scarecrow

the cold cracked their limbs
in their indignation little boys
threw stones at the frozen scarecrows

the taunt and hate on the streets
they sunk deep in the soul and their tears spiced their soup
their pain sweetened their bread

even when the snow melted they are nobody
on the black craggy hills they perched
calling the good Lord in Blues far from the peach tree

somewhere in my memory
I quiver when a little white shadow coughs
to remind me of the fishhook on a tree in Alabama