Just A Different Color Clay

sipping sweet sassafras tea in the provoking heat of May
an old man's worn hand, dark as the end of a day
wipes the tickle of a trickle of sweat away

children running, playing in their yards
women hanging clothes, men joking, playing cards
a baby reaches for the caterpillar crawling 'cross a toy
baby face gleaming, full of innocents and joy

saturday moving slow- like the hound dog headed 'neath the porch
walking 'cross singed grass, black and scorched
still smelling of gasoline set to fire
when a hooded man threw his torch

a child, with sparkling brown eyes
jumps at the sound of a slamming screen door
fear not forgotten since the night before

the old man sees, and lifts her to his lap
"You can rest now honey, come on, take yourself a nap."
under the blanket of summer heat, the child's head begins to nod
and the old man whispers,
"All hating another man is, is jus' hating the image of God."

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