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                Our house big and airy
                beneath God's blue sky
                bulging at the seams with
                all nine of us.

                We all knew how to use a hoe,
                on tobacco and corn
                which grew in fields below.

                Scraggly chickens pecked for
                worms and things in the yard,

                laying eggs and hoping not
                to become Sunday dinner.

                Our Mountain became a world of
                color, summer or winter on laundry day.

                The old washing machine shocked us
                but it gave us energy to do more.
                Washing for nine was no easy chore.

                The old fence running up and down the mountain
                sagged under the weight of our clothes.

                "Nanny Bee" the goat walked around
                with a gloat.

                We kept a watchful eye
                until the clothes were dry.

                She would eat anything,
                clothes on the fence no exception.

                She received quite a reception when
                she came walking in with Mama's drawers
                on her head.

                Blushing beet red, Mama said,
                "I wish that goat was dead."

Gail Livesay writes:

I write poetry, essays, plays, fiction and nonfiction. I am currently revising my autobiography which explores the impact of growing up with bipolar disorder, which had not been diagnosed and/or recognized.

I attend weekly classes led by Pulitzer Prize nominated poet Sidney Saylor Farr and am a participant in The Kentucky Women's Playwright Seminar led by Trish Ayers.

My poetry has been published in "Poetry As A Prayer," "Appalachian Women Speak," "Appalachian Women's Journal," "Appalachian Connection," "The Seeker," and several will be read by the New Mummers Group production in NYC and in Berea, Kentucky. I have had several informative letters to the editor published in The Berea Citizen, Richmond Register, Mount Vernon Signal and The Lexington Herald.

I live in Berea with my husband Wayne. We have been blessed with two children, Lisa and Michael and two granddaughters, Marina and Hannah. I feel that although God has allowed me to have bipolar disorder, he has blessed me with the gift of writing.

Read more of Gail's stories and poems at USADEEPSOUTH!
Our New Frein / Worn and Gray (two poems)
The Good Ol' Days
A Southern Tale
A Kid Again


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