What role would you play if you lived in Salem, then? What about "Salem" now? |
Of Salem, Then What fear must they, of Salem, then, have read upon thy neighbor’s face; a furrowed brow, suspicious glance, goose-pimpled flesh on blameless race? Such affliction known as fear lay pox to soul of flawless skin, on those who told what was not true, accusing neighbor, sister, friend? What fear must they, of Salem, then, have read upon thy neighbor’s face; the same as seen by Europe’s Jews and those who dared to shield the race? What fear have they, who native born, don hat and glove in fear of tan, who fake their faith lest be accused then stripped of culture, language, land? And here are we, mere centuries hence in witches garb on Hallow’s Eve, while lies we tell, now to ourselves, that monsters then we’ll never be? What fears hold they, in Salem towns across the world, or near our kin and what would we proclaim in court, to shield our child, to save our skin? What fear have we in Salem now to disagree then be disgraced by those convinced of their own ways, who persecute another race? Much fear, I say, for what if we become the race that shouldn't be, or hear the drum of liberal mind, or swim against the raging sea? Much fear, I say, if we, naive, think ourselves much differently than witness, judge, in Salem, then, or witch accused by our own kin. SWPoet 10-21-2010 Inspired by the book The Heretic's Daughter by Kathleen Kent......and the nightly news. ** Image ID #1735170 Unavailable ** Below-original version Of Salem, Then What fear must they, of Salem, then, have read upon thy neighbor’s face; a furrowed brow, suspicious glares, goose-pimpled flesh, on blameless race? Such affliction known as fear lay pox to soul of flawless skin, on those who told what was not true, accusing neighbor, sister, friend? What fear must they, of Salem, then, have read upon thy neighbor’s face; the same as seen by Europe’s Jews and those who dared to shield the race? What fear have they, who native born, don hat and glove in fear of tan, who fake their faith lest be accused then stripped of culture language, land? Our children now, mere centuries hence sport witches garb on Hallow’s Eve, while lies we tell, now to ourselves, that monsters then we’ll never be? What fears hold they, in Salem towns across the world, or in our midst and what would we if threatened so profess in court against our kin? What fear have we in Salem now to disagree then be disgraced by those convinced of their own ways, who persecute another race? Much fear, I say, for what if we become the race that shouldn't be, or hear the drum of liberal mind, or swim against the raging sea. Much fear, I say, if we, naive, think ourselves much differently than witness, judge, in Salem, then, or witch accused by our own kin. What parents, say, if babe at stake might tell a lie, their child to save. And if, in fear, of those unknown might rush to judge, securing home. I fear we humans dooming trait is habit to deny the past, to walk in blameless ignorance, while pointed tongues and fingers wag the righteous flag of arrogance. SWPoet 10-21-2010 Inspired by the book The Heretic's Daughter by Kathleen Kent |