The Execution of Ann Hibbins1

Beneath the Lynching Tree 

In the shadows 

swung the gallows 

Her head cocked askew 

Such a clatter, a splatter, 

drooling lather– 

Greeting death 

withheld breath 

Death's flutter ensue 

Her eyes decry

not silenced by 

these men

of no virtue

1 Ann Hibbins

© Peter Schreiner -

Published by Peter Schreiner