The Hanging Tree

She asked me if we want to meet,
Down by the hanging tree,
Perhaps we could find a seat,
In the crowded knoll so grassy,
Watch dead legs swing,
As the stool falls free,
But when she gets there to see legs swaying,
The stool falls and she drops to her knees,
For the person that is hung is me.
 
 
 
 
-anna sluder
 
 
 
Inspired by the song The Hanging Tree.

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