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A Stand of Trees
by Terry Everett

He takes my meanings,
Joseph, this son of mine,
who thinks and reads and takes
pleasure in the nuances
of language as he
and Angie nurture
Maggie Jo, just turned two.

We're talking about limits
of cellular phones,
during a morning drive
when we're letting "the girls"
(Angie and Maggie Jo)
sleep after the long day
of before, during,
and after the party
at the pool for Maggie Jo.

Stories of communication,
family, sports, work
lead to and beyond
that point in it all
when he says, "There's
probably a poem in that
that could be taken
lots of ways," responding
to my remark about
a stand of trees.

Highway 30 from Oxford
to New Albany, where
we are, has a run
of maybe fifteen miles
where cell phones cannot send
or receive--a stand of trees
in the rugged hills
in the Holly Springs
National Forest do not say
a word for cellular phones.

They just stand there silent,
offering their prayers
for those who can hear
the peace at Puskus Lake,
the songs of praise rising
from the top of Rock Hill,
near where the waters
of Cypress Creek flow down
to join the Tallahatchie
whose valley way down stream
in my Delta of farms
contains still enough of brakes
and bottoms to allow
a stand of trees.

About Terry Everett

Everett's poetry has appeared in TAPESTRY (DSU Division of Languages and Literature art-literary magazine) and numerous magazines and journals. He is Assistant Professor of English Emeritus from DSU where he taught courses in composition and literature.

Read more of Terry Everett's poetry at USADEEPSOUTH:
Uncle Bob's Empire
In April Somewhere In The South
Tao T Gets Two
Owen and Maggie Jo's Birthday Cake
For Mom and Uncle Cecil, Her Brother


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