I Remember Tom Dooley

By Londis Carpenter

Copyright © 2005, printed in USA

They caught Tom Dooley in my Backyard

When I was only ten.

The posse had drove him fast and hard,

But he never rode again.

When the sheriff arrived Tom folded his hand

Like he knew he had seen his last day.

He offered no fight and he didn’t run,

He surrendered while glancing my way.

Through a forced expression he managed a grin,

Yet he didn’t say a word.

When the sheriff told him he would hang that day,

Dooley seemed to have not even heard.

My pa kept tending to his own chores,

With a hollow look in his eye.

But mom gave Tom a tearful wave,

Like when lovers say goodbye.

Tom glanced toward pa and he stared at ma,

Then he looked real hard my way.

His eyes said more than a heart could read,

Or a tongue has words to say.

They caught Tom Dooley in my backyard

When I was only ten.

The posse had drove him fast and hard,

But he never rode again.
They hung Tom Dooley from the old oak tree;
I watched them take his life.
They had left him hanging and swinging free,
So I cut him down with my knife.