Sunday Drive Back home I drove back to our old home place today, with the lonesome ache of memories for company. Now, I stand by a thistle strewn cow pasture; let the dry summer wind steal my tears. A black walnut tree used to spread to forever, shading the back of our three-porch house. Laughter and tears still echo down the hall and into the ghost parlor of my childhood. Here is where four children grew; blossomed wild as roses in the meadow. I close my eyes. I can almost hear my Daddy calling the cows in for hay. See how a long line of blacktop snakes its way across our meadow and into the far horizon. The roses and the walnut tree are gone; not even a stump is left standing. Nothing remains but two tall rock chimneys, bittersweet guardians of my childhood, pointing into a grey Georgia sky. And me, standing quiet by the barbed wire. Shirley Alexander © 2005Return to: Still Surviving
