Abused By Illusions

Sunday, October 24, 2004

The Old South

The Old South

Bar-b-que at a
greasy spoon.
Oh, the smells and tastes-
tangy tart just enough vinegar
to remind me why I
love the south.
Checkered tablecloth
evokes a grandmother gone
who once spread one similar
after the big one
when papaw returned
from the Battle of the Bulge.
My mind wanders while listening
to the symphonic drawl
of my pregnant waitress who talks
about her reunion:
first cousins, second cousins, cousins
twice removed, cousins deceased, cousins
just married.
Frostbitten shine winks up from
a Dixie cup as it
chills my palm
bringing me back again sadly
to the NEW SOUTH!

© C.I. Abramson, 2004

Posted by CIAbramson at 12:07 AM