Listen to the way the breeze blows now.
The arrangements delivered.
To wither.
The casseroles served.
To soothe that pain
(the Southern way.)
Your Momma.
Our Mawmaw.
Your neighbor.
Her yellow kitchen.
Oh, how we all knew it.
Come and sit a spell.
Tell me your tale.
Of the greatest meal
you ever ate.
At my Mawmaw's table.
Love aint the answer, nor is work. The truth eludes me so much it hurts, but I'm still having fun and I guess that's the key,I'm a twentysomething and I'll keep bein' me
7.18.2009
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