Of Salem, Then

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.

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