Summer Evening In The Country
The topic for writing_101 is family and this is a poem that I wrote a while back about my brother. For the record, my brother is still alive and kicking..
Summer Evening In The Country
It was at your funeral, brother, when the old
Memories came flooding back to me:
I remembered when it was hot in the out doors
And it was you and me, the moon like a toenail,
My birth moon, they called it...
Just beginning to show.
We walked out behind the house and into the corn.
I much more liked the corn than the beans
Because the corn would get up so high
You could hide and get lost and pretend
You were somewhere else.
There we were, under the large leaves,
The dirt getting packed under our toes.
It was damp and cold even in the incredible heat.
You were older than me, but not by much.
We wern't wearing much more than bathing suits,
And our hair was long and sticking together
With mud from the coolie.
We ran and ran and ran and
That is when I get myself lost, deep in the corn
The big leaves above me, blocking out
the little light the toenail gives.
I sit in the black dirt, my still wet bottom
Making mud under me and I cry.
When you come upon me
you push me with your foot
Till I am lying on my back,
Elbows now dirtier that before.
You say, "Stop acking like a girl."
Then you grab my hand and drag me behind you.
It is only about four rows later
When we leave the corn only to hear
Our momma calling,
"Kids, Suppers just about done
Get your buts in here and cleaned up!"
Then we run hand in hand
All the way back to the house,
My tears still drying on my cheeks.
Summer Evening In The Country
It was at your funeral, brother, when the old
Memories came flooding back to me:
I remembered when it was hot in the out doors
And it was you and me, the moon like a toenail,
My birth moon, they called it...
Just beginning to show.
We walked out behind the house and into the corn.
I much more liked the corn than the beans
Because the corn would get up so high
You could hide and get lost and pretend
You were somewhere else.
There we were, under the large leaves,
The dirt getting packed under our toes.
It was damp and cold even in the incredible heat.
You were older than me, but not by much.
We wern't wearing much more than bathing suits,
And our hair was long and sticking together
With mud from the coolie.
We ran and ran and ran and
That is when I get myself lost, deep in the corn
The big leaves above me, blocking out
the little light the toenail gives.
I sit in the black dirt, my still wet bottom
Making mud under me and I cry.
When you come upon me
you push me with your foot
Till I am lying on my back,
Elbows now dirtier that before.
You say, "Stop acking like a girl."
Then you grab my hand and drag me behind you.
It is only about four rows later
When we leave the corn only to hear
Our momma calling,
"Kids, Suppers just about done
Get your buts in here and cleaned up!"
Then we run hand in hand
All the way back to the house,
My tears still drying on my cheeks.