Spanish Moss Poem by Barry Middleton

the Spaniards had seen nothing like it
it draped the cypress like a beard
it clothed the women of Timucua
before the rape and genocide

the voodoo priests of Louisiana
fashioned it to hex dolls
perhaps to even up a score
or lend some hope to oppression

under the shadowed dueling oaks
he met his final distraction
the moss waved like his lover's hair
and the challenger's shot rang out

it was a good fiber for bousillage
retted it made a fine mattress
it stuffed the seats of cars
now it is relegated to arts and crafts

still beneath the oak and bald cypress
it crowns the canopy providing shade
it is un-offended by its arcane history
with no regard for the whims of man