this morning made part of me wish that
i lived in a rural part of the south in
a big house with a big porch and one big
tree nearby
in the middle of a huge field
and when i go to the general store i'd get greeted
by the content old storekeeper that would say
"mawnin mizz collins, how's mistuh collins and the chilren?"
and i'd reply, "oh just fine. how are you mistuh jackson?"
and he'd go on about his sugar and how arthritis is creepin
up on him but he's fine this beautiful mawnin...
and i'd have my own vegetable garden, 3 chickens, and one cow
and my children would be so at ease
(and weed would be very hard to come by for my husband--
he don't need to be smokin it anyway)
and slow sunday mornings would be real slow
and we wouldn't have to rush off anywhere because
everything we needed was right there
and clear crisp sunny cold mornings would be enjoyed
sitting on the kitchen sofa cuddled under a blanket
eating hot biscuits and drinking chocolate milk...
in the south where hospitality is key and a smiling
face is never hard to come by and the soil is rich
with the knowledge that my ancestors dwelled there
working the earth...
the south that i tend to shy away from because of
it's slow pace, share-cropper mentality, and the fact that
lynchings and rash social injustice blatantly endures...
my southern home would be euphoric wherein
color and status wouldn't make a difference
we would just live and love each other...
i lived in a rural part of the south in
a big house with a big porch and one big
tree nearby
in the middle of a huge field
and when i go to the general store i'd get greeted
by the content old storekeeper that would say
"mawnin mizz collins, how's mistuh collins and the chilren?"
and i'd reply, "oh just fine. how are you mistuh jackson?"
and he'd go on about his sugar and how arthritis is creepin
up on him but he's fine this beautiful mawnin...
and i'd have my own vegetable garden, 3 chickens, and one cow
and my children would be so at ease
(and weed would be very hard to come by for my husband--
he don't need to be smokin it anyway)
and slow sunday mornings would be real slow
and we wouldn't have to rush off anywhere because
everything we needed was right there
and clear crisp sunny cold mornings would be enjoyed
sitting on the kitchen sofa cuddled under a blanket
eating hot biscuits and drinking chocolate milk...
in the south where hospitality is key and a smiling
face is never hard to come by and the soil is rich
with the knowledge that my ancestors dwelled there
working the earth...
the south that i tend to shy away from because of
it's slow pace, share-cropper mentality, and the fact that
lynchings and rash social injustice blatantly endures...
my southern home would be euphoric wherein
color and status wouldn't make a difference
we would just live and love each other...