prairie point

where I am from

I am from a yellow cat sleeping on a porch
and from an old woman in a faded sunbonnet
tending a garden of hollyhocks and flags.
I am from butterflies dancing in the sunlight.

I am from the sand and the grassburrs,
and from a forest of blackjacks and post oaks
hard as cast iron.

I am from pinto beans and cornbread.
I am from the cotton fields and the pea patch,
from quilts made of feedsacks and dress scraps
and from pallets laid on bare floors for sleeping.

I am from blackland farmers and schoolteachers
and from an uncle killed in war.
I am from a cedar chest filled with packets of letters,
faded Kodak prints, newspaper clippings, and crayon drawings.

I am from a church built of cypress planks
that were carried across the prairie on a horsecart.
I am from sweet-smelling roses and wildflowers
blooming in an old graveyard at the end of a narrow road.

Another post inspired by Fred. This and the ones at his site are modeled after a poem by George Ella Lyons.

Why not write your own version and leave a link to it?.

Posted by Bill Hopkins on November 17, 2003 08:40 PM