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Riding The Greyhound: Grosse Point, La. (from Boyhood Tales)
| Open Poetry #11 |
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Riding The Greyhound: Grosse Point, La. (from Boyhood Tales) |
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jwesley Member Rara Avis
since 2000-04-30
Posts 7563Spring, Texas 
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(from Boyhood Tales) She was an old lady, black, and at the time, older than I ever thought anyone could be. She spoke to me of her kids, grandkids, and chickens. She said her social security check was all the money she had, except for the yard eggs she sold, sixty-cents a dozen. She took the Greyhound, once a month, rain or shine, from Grosse Point, La. to Bay St. Louis, Miss. to see her daughter. I was seventeen, she was ninety-two. It was nineteen sixty-two, just outside New Orleans when I sat next to her. She talked to me, mile after mile, sharing her life, what it meant to be black, her husband, who died last year; she showed me a side of life that has marked me to this day. She taught me, in six hours of Louisiana backroads and pitstops, to love everyone in some way, to reach out and touch someone, God wanted it that way. She said she was tired, with forty miles to go, rested her head against the window, said wake her when we reached Grosse Point. I cried hard that day as they carried her from the bus, for this old lady I never knew, for the youth that faded with her life, for being there when she didn't need to be alone, for all the reasons I never cried before. I was seventeen then, back in nineteen sixty-two, riding the Greyhound, just because I wanted to. w. james beard, jr. © January 2001 [This message has been edited by jwesley (edited 01-07-2001).] |
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| © Copyright 2001 Wesley James Beard, Jr. - All Rights Reserved | |||
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misscris Junior Member
since 2000-07-17
Posts 27Leawood, KS, USA |
when my best friend died my senior year of high school, my pastor told me that we are here on loan from God, and eventually he needs us back in heaven to keep Him company.... beautiful story misscris |
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Marge Tindal 
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384Florida's Foreverly Shores |
JWesley~ What a lovely boyhood tale. Gave me little shivers of sadness. But it serves her memory well that she impacted your life. I would think she likes knowing that - and she does, my friend. Thank you for sharing this write from the heart. ~*Marge*~ ~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~ [email protected] |
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Victoria
since 2000-08-12
Posts 5869 |
what a wonderful poem..to be remembered almost forty years later..by someone riding along side of her..how happy she would be and maybe she is...  ~V~ A poem is never finished, only abandoned. - Paul Valery (1871-1945) |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
You just can't imagine how much I enjoy this style of writing....little heart-felt and impressionable snippets of our memories and the small things that influenced us as we were growing up...and you have written this so well and in such a humane way....very powerful writing... I love this.... |
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suthern
since 1999-07-29
Posts 20723Louisiana |
The title drew this Louisiana gal in... and I'm so glad it did! This is wonderful! |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
Very interesting style and story...James |
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