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Open Poetry #25
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Lacey's Smile (.45 and Ezra Pound part 3)
| Open Poetry #25 |
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Lacey's Smile (.45 and Ezra Pound part 3) |
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Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
I’d noticed the gate hanging One hinge a mass of rotted rust Holding tentatively to the post As I left Mrs. Slater’s And let shame get the best of me While I drove home, showered And found some aspirin. Cleaned up, Fed Sober I drove to town and the hardware Where I ran into Lacey. “Want to come over for lunch?” she asked. “I’d love to Lacey, but I got something to take care of.” “Could we make it dinner?” I asked. “Sure,” she nodded, “be there about 8.” I drove the winds of road back toward the White Found Mrs. Slater’s road and pulled in Letting the old truck roll to a stop In front of the house, But not before she was on the porch Looking to see who was there. “What you doing here boy, feeling stupid already?” She laughed. “Maam, I think I was born that way.” I grinned. “You got a problem with me fixing your gate?” “Figure I owed you that for breakfast and the advice.” “You don’t owe me nothing boy.” She said, but I noticed the flint in her eyes was now just grey not sparking to set a fire like before. “But,” she continued, “The gate needs fixed.” It turned into a bigger job than just the hinges With two new posts set, the gate patched, And re-hung taking the rest of the day. She brought sweat tea in a metal glass Sweating from the heat long before It made the end of the drive in her hands Then supervised from the shade “Walter would have liked that.” She offered when I had finished. “He was always one to like a job well done.” “Miss the old coot, but damn him, he decided to die about 10 years ago and I had no choice but to stay here looking after this place best I could.” “Yes Maam, looks like you could use some help with the heavy work.” I answered “Mind if I drop in once in a while to help out?” “Boy,” she shook her head, “Nice of you to say but tomorrow you’ll be forgetting you said it, or some little girl come along and you’ll go off stirring up the ugly in the mud.” “Maybe” I said with eyes lowered “but if none of that happens, you mind?” “Hell no.” she said “I don’t mind.” “Want dinner?” I remembered Lacey and told her I had an invite Then took a chance, “Would you join us?” “Might do that,” she laughed, “You go call her, and make sure she don’t mind. Before you make me answer.” And led me to the house and the phone. Turned out Mrs Slater liked pot roast And Lacey’s smile. Me, I liked belonging. .................................. A GIRL by: Ezra Pound (1885-1972) HE tree has entered my hands, The sap has ascended my arms, The tree has grown in my breast-- Downward, The branches grow out of me, like arms. Tree you are, Moss you are, You are violets with wind above them. A child -- so high -- you are, And all this is folly to the world. [This message has been edited by Cpat Hair (03-07-2003 10:37 AM).] |
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| © Copyright 2003 Cpat Hair - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Sometimes we have to find a common ground, and a home, where we will.  |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
'Me, I liked belonging.' Yep...  |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
"Me, I liked belonging." Like a punch in the chest, those words caught my breath and sucked it away. Thank you for that. Susan (Grasshopper) |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Ron...nothing like potroast and a smile to make you feel you belong. There's a good feeling to this.  |
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KristieSue
since 2003-01-31
Posts 1460PA, US |
HEY *wink* Maybe Mrs. Slater can help this thing along, ya think??? LOL |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Yes Ron..we all need to belong. A smile and a tear from this avid reader. ~Hugs~ ~ Trace my body with your words.. |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
She brought sweat tea in a metal glass Sweating from the heat long before It made the end of the drive in her hands ============================== If one hasnt already, the memory of drinking from a metal tumbler..they do now. Aunt Dorothy brought us lemon-aid in them as we picked tomatoes for her. Needless to say you are stirring many memories with you story telling gifts. I thank you for that. |
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regards2you Member Elite
since 2002-10-01
Posts 3940California |
This is perfect. So satisfying to my soul. True, many memories. I too, have had icy cold drinks from metal sweating tumblers. Life begins when we are willing to take the chances...(if we stay outta the mud at the bottom of our minds) Oh, how I like this. Grinning here. And the addition of the poems at the end, just frosting on the cake! Hugs, Pat  ..without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.. |
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Mistletoe Angel 
since 2000-12-17
Posts 32816Portland, Oregon |
 (smiles) You've got to belong to something in this world for that is what makes existence "existent"! (big hugggssssss) Thiss is lovely, sweet friend, what a delightful homecoming, we all love you so much! You have such a beautiful heart, sweet Ron, thank you for sharing!  May love and light always shine upon you! Love, Noah Eaton "Underneath your clothes there's an endless story..." |
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wranx Member Elite
since 2002-06-07
Posts 3689Moved from a shack to a barn |
Ron, m'friend? Yer readin' to much of the good stuff. And writin' too likewise. Ed |
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