Everglades

I always loved this green, little world
A world within a world
On a hot summer day
Where the peaches melt in my mouth
And the grass cushions my tired body
After a hard day's run.

They always said that people came to die
On this worn-down mountain.
I've never found a body,
Not in the basement of Mr. Scruggs' house
Where his wife used to sew,
Nor in my secret place where
I go to stargaze late at night.

I call it the realm of the unforgotten
Because all my memories are in there.
Memories of the honeybees
Who liked to visit the water lilies.
Memories of glades surrounded by willow trees
And leaves drifting into the shadows.

My mother used to sit on our hammock chair,
Swinging to and fro.
I never saw her murder, but I've always known
Who her adversary was.
I've always known because he lies there now,
Deep under the glades of the willow trees.