Tag: Southern Life
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The Smell of Brown
Brown smells like memory.Not the kindyou keep in photographs,but the kindthat lives in your handslong after you’ve washed them,that rises without warningwhen rain strikes old woodor autumn beginsits slow conversationwith the earth.Brown smells like dead leaves.Not dying—dead.Curled into themselves,soft with surrender,becoming the dark languageroots have always understood.Brown smells like bark,its rough skin carryingthe patience of…
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Pinched Off the Block
For Susan Sue stands at her kitchen counter,cutting a piece of cheddarfrom the block she keeps there—not cold from the refrigerator,but soft beneath the knife,warm enough to releaseits sharp, familiar scent.She lifts it to her mouth,and before she can finish chewing,the kitchen fades.She is a little girl againin the early seventies,standing beside Mydaddyon the front…
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My Joy
My joy begins where the first light slips through the longleaf pines of North Florida, painting the forest floor in ribbons of gold. Before the roads awaken and the world remembers its hurry, I find peace in the hush of creation—in the rustle of palmettos, the chorus of songbirds, and the gentle breeze that carries…
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GRANDMA’S HOUSE
Summer vacation My destination Grandma’s house Where if it thundered and lightened I sat quiet as a mouse With my cousins A minimum of a half dozen Of us at a time But it was always Me, Lisa and Sam Cookie, Sack and Pam Others would come and go Like Mup and Shannon Keith and…
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