they gave her
some cornmeal,
fishhooks and a skillet,
we'll be back for you in a
week, pole's hanging on a
tree, limb needs chosen, they
handed her a spool of twine,
how many years
has it been? She's still
there, Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
was playing on the radio that
day, Mr. Bojangles dance, the
old soft shoe, he danced for those
at minstrel shows and county fairs,
seasons have
come, seasons
have gone, that
same old seasoned
cast-iron skillet with a
fire under it everyday, she's
got bigger fish to fry.
Copyright 5.20.2010 Ms. Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist
Share
Print
Save
Follow
To troths of acuity give great reflections
And there are always bigger fish to fry or to release
Back to those sprying pools
Might I show you a great fish'n hole where reeling in
Also grabs some pearch when fishen for catfish...
Fish fry with Blue Gill
Peace and good seasoning,
Dayvid
ET
Highly atmospheric and charged.
John
You never cease to amaze me Sage, always the wit and the wisdom together to form such outstanding poetry!
Much peace, love, and light,
Amber "V"
Be always safe,
Karen