can we all hunker down
under the Magnolias
in the sand of the Plantation
driveway under
a confederate flag anymore?

draw our plans like Lee
would have, with a saber
a picture of lines
scribbled in the sand-
our carbine- loaded by our side
at the ready
our heritage the old war
or states rights
or slavery

when so much time and  lives
have passed
and people oughta know more
about peoples,
about history,
about struggling

which all races do.
It wasn't pretty then.
Not the least bit.
And cotton , high or otherwise,
needs no slavery,
and bigotry is
ancient as
sorghum and
horse meat.

And man is man, proven to depend on a
falsity or hate  to
defend his ancestry, his teachings,
instead of the question.

Here, with a stick
I scribble, while
down hunkering,
the least threatening position,
to ask of myself,
have I done what
I could. And the answer
of course,
the black man and the Mexican,
the Redman, the sensible ,
might answer, is
it will take time.
Do we have enough?