Through the field

[GrhmJngL]

I really like the how you utilise the detached tone to allow the horror felt to be that of the reader, not the writer.

I nearly feel as if if this sense would be even stronger were the description even more pedantic and specific. On the hand, though, there's also the danger that doing that could push the poem further into "cut up prose" territory which it kind of strays into already in parts.

Not too sure on the title. It doesn't really fit the tone of the narrator, and nor does it really sound like a quote from one of lynchers. I feel a title more in one of those directions would be better fitting.

through the field, past the briers and blackberry bushes
down where the pines overtook the landscape,
by a pond where the stench of still water lingered in
the breeze,

a wooden structure stood about eleven feet high.
three eight by twelve foot railroad tie's made the
device, two ties about twelve feet apart and one
resting on top of them,

The thick hemp rope directly in the center of the
beam above head, lap'd over a few times and tied
off, the noose hanging two foot downward

There was a old beaten stool made of oak propped
against the side of one tie,

The sun was blazing in the distance [Is this not a bit arbitrary? When is the sun not in the distance?] as the voices
grew louder with there heckling,

Some men were so enthusiastic, they danced around
the structure, hollering. The hollering was as a language
of its own, echoing through the pines and terrain

The man caught, he was a negro who stole a chicken.
Earlier that day He had a trial and was found guilty,
he had plead to those few around the courthouse
"let me be freed" he said as he was being taken out
as men began to shout, circling him while he waved
his shackled hands upward in prayer

The breeze brought about the stagnant water
as they had him stand on the stool
they placed the rope around his shivering body
he screamed out "I don't want to die."

It took about thirty minutes to bring that negro down
to this wasteland and as they kicked the stool out
from his feet, twenty minutes to hang him dead
Maybe it's just me, but I'm not really feeling this last stanza. I just feel as if it's not quite as stark and ending as it was intended to be. The body of this poem is really good, so I think it demands a more fitting ending.