Updated: Feb 22
In celebration of Black History Month
This poem is by Ruby Lee Thompson 1991
In Virginia, there stood
an old deserted mill,
in the district of Rose Hill.
Ad when at night I passed it by,
my heart just almost stood still;
because my mother used to say,
"Children right over there a man was killed."
Through with the swift and passing years,
passed all those childish fears;
now nothing but a memory lingers;
that old mill house, it's gone.
And I walk on down the dusty road,
there's one thought the message blowed;
I cast a glance upon the hill,
There still remains the home
where poor ole uncle lived,
because it was he that used to own
that old deserted mill.