Mama Cindy’s Ascension:
the family matriarch
By Felton Eaddy
Search the old begonia beds
Past fuchsia azalea blooms
Where she planted new lavender thrift
Border clusters of aloe vera
Listen for her voice among blue birds
No songs whistle Mama Cindy’s name
Cries from some children for peach cobbler
More four-layered chocolate cake slices
Others wait for her brown tan biscuits.
Fevers to cool; colds to cure
Sister had a stomach-ache
Fresh ground Indian ‘tato
Sister had a stomach-ache
Garlic, syrup & ginger blend
Babies held and mothers raised
Young brothers molded into men
Shiloh’s ushers trained to walk in rhythm
Seek scripture study for Sunday School
Promote the Super Building Fund
Something for the sick and shut-in
Communion and sacrament offerings
Long-coming joyful home-goings
fractured families to tend and mend.
No more love from the Fork Community
Handmade quilting circle of elders
On Old Buck Swamp Road
Faded reds, yellows, orange patterns
To mix, magically match stitch for stitch.
Walk the back dirt roads of Zion
Streets of Mullins
Sandy shady lanes of Fork
Look, look, look for Lucinda
Yell out from the pine forest
And thick green scuppernong vines
But she is not there
Only her spirit laughs
In the quiet timber of the wind.
the family matriarch
By Felton Eaddy
Search the old begonia beds
Past fuchsia azalea blooms
Where she planted new lavender thrift
Border clusters of aloe vera
Listen for her voice among blue birds
No songs whistle Mama Cindy’s name
Cries from some children for peach cobbler
More four-layered chocolate cake slices
Others wait for her brown tan biscuits.
Fevers to cool; colds to cure
Sister had a stomach-ache
Fresh ground Indian ‘tato
Sister had a stomach-ache
Garlic, syrup & ginger blend
Babies held and mothers raised
Young brothers molded into men
Shiloh’s ushers trained to walk in rhythm
Seek scripture study for Sunday School
Promote the Super Building Fund
Something for the sick and shut-in
Communion and sacrament offerings
Long-coming joyful home-goings
fractured families to tend and mend.
No more love from the Fork Community
Handmade quilting circle of elders
On Old Buck Swamp Road
Faded reds, yellows, orange patterns
To mix, magically match stitch for stitch.
Walk the back dirt roads of Zion
Streets of Mullins
Sandy shady lanes of Fork
Look, look, look for Lucinda
Yell out from the pine forest
And thick green scuppernong vines
But she is not there
Only her spirit laughs
In the quiet timber of the wind.
|
|