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24 - Sunday

by Lacy D Phillips

Sweet Sunday breezes fill my head
with the scents of Southern Indiana summer.
This is the land of livestock and limestone,
of popcorn crops and new-mown hay.
This is rolling hill and tributary country,
lush and lonely, abundant and overgrown.
This is the home of the county fair,
your mom’s homemade soup,
and sweet tea you can stand a spoon in.
Childhoods here are filled with barn cats,
two-hand touch, horses and hay lofts,
with creek stone, crawfish and copperheads,
and with pennies flattened on railroad tracks.
Remember picking dinner right off the tree
or the 30-ft-drop shortcut to the swimming hole?
Here the city is never far from your periphery.
There is UPS hub air traffic overhead
and the orange glow in the Southeast sky
that is not the dawn come early to remind us
that we are never more than half an hour's drive
from a good concert venue or a thrill ride,
though 60 on a backroad does the job just fine.

07/23/2006

Author's Note: The final day of the One Week Challenge! Boy am I relieved! It's stressful knowing you have to write something EVERY day.

Posted on 07/24/2006
Copyright © 2024 Lacy D Phillips

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by David R Spellman on 07/27/06 at 12:53 AM

This is such a wonderful account of country life. Very nicely done!

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