A poem about my childhood…
.
.
Patchwork, dirt and heat
we tilled the earth
when the crisp spring air
moist and gentle mist
blessed the soil
and the sun laid the runway
for long hot days
summer breaks

in between games
the warm atmosphere
pushing us under the elephants ears
plunging into the cool air conditioned wood panelled parlour
where we were
together
and alone


where the smell of bacon
from creaky wooden wicker chairs
were part of our communion
a moment together
before going on our way
shuckin’ corn
shellin’ peas
drinking sweet tea