I.
In Alabama, through pine thicket,
the corner of Tennessee, and the deep end of several driveways,
I assume my role as big sister, daughter,
where pieces of identity have other shapes.
It fits now like handled hand-me downs,
ill and faded, the most comfortable piece I have.
II.
Even in a different house, I wake
to same sounds and damp smells,
feeling tucked into high hollow rock.
Here, the fog is no cat, no beast but its own,
how it turns everything to ghost.
III.
Eagle Rock is a secret
jutted over untouched and rolling lines of mountain.
Once I took my husband there.
The mountain roared.
A thousand leaves unlatched their chimes.
—————–
Have a good Thanksgiving. See you back here soon.
5RDTPFVP2RNG
If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!
TweetRunaMuck in your Reader?
{ 9 comments… read them below or add one }
Oh, I do love your poetry… Have a wonderful week!
I’m thankful for you.
Have a sweet, restful holiday.
Sweet Home Alabama….
“It fits now like handled hand-me downs,
ill and faded, the most comfortable piece I have.”
It’s so good when it fits… Have a wonderful Thanksgiving
Enjoying your poetry is a wonderful gift.
I hope you get to go back home for Thanksgiving, and I also hope to hear about it when you return!
Our book, Faith & FINANCES: In God We Trust, will be released in January, 2010. As part of our launch, we’re asking faith-based bloggers to participate in our virtual book tour. Would your blog site be willing to host a virtual book signing in January? No cost to you. We’ll provide the content, ( with your approval, of course,) and the back-links to your site.
Oh! By the way… I love your poetry, your words that flow and a picture appears as though I am there with you.
it’s that last line that really punches. that “chimes” is so out of place, so other to the actual sound of leaves that it feels ridiculously perfect. i know, for quite some time, i’ll be thinking of that word “chimes” when i look at the trees.
keep giving us the land!
i love you.
you got a TATTOO and you write poems and then you click “Publish”
and that makes you a hero to me.
thank you.
and i still have this pretty pitcher that i borrowed from your
kitchen this summer
and it should somehow get back into
your possession soon.