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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=520798" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Saturday In The Town Square</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=520798" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The women gather are dressed to the nines; <br>Floral designs of cornpetal blue and lace<br>Adorning their cool blouses.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=520798" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">A black pit holding fire<br>Smoulders and is left to burn, on the side, <br>Offering smoke to the pellucid air.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=520798" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">A newly made gallows stands, <br>And a very tall man in a tall hat, <br>With an axe and a black mask, <br>Takes his place-<br>He is in charge.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=520798" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">A large crowd gathers, talkative<br>And unashamed, in a hurry though. <br>They lead out shackled red-faced Rudy who<br>Looks like he has a belly full of gin, <br>But he really has a gut full of regret.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=520798" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Exactly at eleven the tall man<br>In the black mask chops the rope around Rudy's neck.<br>Dropping hard and snapping his neck.<br>He uncleans his pants quietly.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=520798" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">What a fine thing for a town to do<br>On a bright crystal Saturday morn; <br>They split into two groups, <br>Some laughing loudly, <br>Some shouting and hollering for more.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=520798" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">At last the fire is out<br>And no more smoke sullens the square; <br>The next day being Sunday, <br>The day of peace, forgiveness, prayer.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Stan+Petrovich">Stan Petrovich</a></strong></div>

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