Salt Air

Salt air
brings tears
Remembering ancestors
Long ago
on slave ships
in deep dark holes.
Air thick and heavy.
for one clean breath.
Waves churning
up and down, up and down.
Stale food and rotten fruit
for nourishment.
a common friend.
Freeing the soul
from the tortures grip.
Some survive
to meet the whip.
In new lands,
far, far away.

Comments 1 comment

Faith Reaper profile image

Faith Reaper 3 years ago from southern USA

Wow, profound poem!

Voted up +++ and sharing

God bless, Faith Reaper

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