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From the Unwritten Letters of Joseph Freeman
Camille T. Dungy
(March, 1841)
- What a herd of slaves Jackson brought in last month.
- No sooner had their strength returned
- after the long march to the farm from Lynchburg
- but they began to plot another run.
- We didn’t know they’d planned to leave
- until they were already gone a day.
- All manner of neighborhood men
- came around to tip Jackson’s whiskey
- and help him on the hunt, though
- all they brought back for their trouble
- were two bodies. One dead,
- one fighting off living. That boy
- I told you about, Ben with the slashed cheek?
- At the stony fork of the river
- Doc Jackson found his body, cut up,
- twisted as if it had fought long
- under water, a dead hand pointing
- in the direction his netted sister and the “damned
- lost lot of niggers” had run. I guess
- he was too obstinate even for the water
- to hold down easily. Jackson used Ben
- like a scarecrow, his shirt hooked on a pole,
- his body meant to warn us from the road.
- Lila’s still not certain that the girl will live.
- Until tomorrow, I am ever your Joe.
Camille T. Dungy is the author of the poetry collections Smith Blue; Suck on the Marrow; and What to Eat, What to Drink, What to Leave for Poison. She edited Black Nature: Four Centuries of African American Nature Poetry, and co-edited the From the Fishouse poetry anthology. Her honors include an American Book Award, two Northern California Book Awards, a California Book Award silver medal, and a fellowship from the NEA. Dungy is a professor in the creative-writing department at San Francisco State University.
Here's something you might be interested in.
From the Unwritten Letters of Joseph Freeman
From the Unwritten Letters of Joseph Freeman
Camille T. Dungy
(March, 1841)
- What a herd of slaves Jackson brought in last month.
- No sooner had their strength returned
- after the long march to the farm from Lynchburg
- but they began to plot another run.
- We didn’t know they’d planned to leave
- until they were already gone a day.
- All manner of neighborhood men
- came around to tip Jackson’s whiskey
- and help him on the hunt, though
- all they brought back for their trouble
- were two bodies. One dead,
- one fighting off living. That boy
- I told you about, Ben with the slashed cheek?
- At the stony fork of the river
- Doc Jackson found his body, cut up,
- twisted as if it had fought long
- under water, a dead hand pointing
- in the direction his netted sister and the “damned
- lost lot of niggers” had run. I guess
- he was too obstinate even for the water
- to hold down easily. Jackson used Ben
- like a scarecrow, his shirt hooked on a pole,
- his body meant to warn us from the road.
- Lila’s still not certain that the girl will live.
- Until tomorrow, I am ever your Joe.
Camille T. Dungy is the author of the poetry collections Smith Blue; Suck on the Marrow; and What to Eat, What to Drink, What to Leave for Poison. She edited Black Nature: Four Centuries of African American Nature Poetry, and co-edited the From the Fishouse poetry anthology. Her honors include an American Book Award, two Northern California Book Awards, a California Book Award silver medal, and a fellowship from the NEA. Dungy is a professor in the creative-writing department at San Francisco State University.