by Judy Lee Green
Sitting on a two-holer with my granny,
a broom straw in her mouth,
kicking my legs, knocking flies,
listening to the drone of dirt daubers
in the upper corner of the outhouse,
thinking about Little Miss Muffet as I watched
a spider descend from the ceiling on a thread of silk.
Sticky with the cotton candy heat
of a July morning I was
inhaling barnyard odors,
listening to chickens softly cluck
and scratch for worms outside the door,
hearing the creek gurgle
down the hill behind us,
crows caw, songbirds sing,
my granddaddy, as he called to the mule
in the lower forty
as he plowed,
feeling the rough cut
of the sawmill board
as my hand played
along the edge of the seat,
watching my granny
fan with a Sears and Roebuck sale catalog,
noticing light leak through
the cracks of the walls
and hopscotch on the floor,
savoring the salty taste in my mouth of
country ham and mouth-watering
cathead biscuits and sawmill gravy
shuddering at the bucket of corn cobs
in the corner and dreading
smelling old maids beside the door
and hollyhocks growing up the side,
anticipating making hollyhock dancers
and floating them in the creek again today.
Sitting on a two-holer with my granny
and wishing summer vacation would never end.
Judy Lee Green is an award-winning writer who discovered her craft at the age of nine. She has received recognition throughout the Southeast for her work in fiction, creative non-fiction, poetry and essay. She has been published in numerous magazines, newspapers, business publications, journals and on the web. Currently residing in Murfreesboro, Tennessee, she is compiling a collection of creative non-fiction about her childhood, growing up in East Tennessee in the 1950s.
Email Judy at JUDYLEEG.
And read more by Judy at USADS here: Sleeping With the Sausage
Want to leave a comment about Judy's poem?
Please visit our Message Board
or write Ye Editor at email@example.com.
Back to USADEEPSOUTH - I index page
Back to USADEEPSOUTH - II index page