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.....and there he stood,
as we came around the curve
on the highway that used to be
an old dirt and gravel road.
His majesty, the old 'backer barn
that we hid and sought within.
.....stripped 'backer in the icy cold
dreaming 'stead of fishing and toad.
The creek full of fury ran deep beside him
beckoning, conning us to join
whether wading or swimming,
skinny dippin' or picnicin' whole hog.
Cattle and sheep aplenty dotted the fields
quenching their thirst in the spring-fed stream
where snipe huntin' or a giggin' kid's goal
was pouch overflowing with frog.
Dreams were born from the loft
of that big ol' king-size barn
some came to pass, some not
Prince Charming came and went.
Log cabins were designed
with a child's whimsical mind
and born to be architect's eye__
the 'backer sticks used until spent.
Back in its day, that ol' barn
was a castle, a jail, a produce stand
in our thoughts, we stood
stripping 'backer; Daddy & Mama did chatter.
Those ghosts still linger as we listen
browsing the fields or looking in the stalls
He is mighty, worn and proud
a loving product of Tennessee tatter.
Daddy's ol'red Ford tractor
sittin' in the dark of the hall
dressed in a fine red dappled rust
I can still see Daddy startin' it up.
Mama was hollerin' to all
to hurry up, wash our hands in the spring
cornbread's on the table
Okra, 'maters, fried chicken for sup.
All sat at the table
with the mighty barn in view
out the big ol' windows
as Daddy prayed; ears open, heads down.
Jesus brought us together
on this farmin' land
God blessed us each
There was hardly a frown.
Times were of learning
of working hard and sewing
deeds to others among us
in Liberty Hill lore.
Daddy went to heaven,
Mama soon behind him, too
But they left behind them
holes in our hearts we bore.
When I want to visit them
I come back to this ol' friendly barn
not the cemetery where their remains lay,
but here where their hearts are.
Some have uppity ideas
of how it was and when
None knows the journey
we all shared thus far.
'cept each of us kids know
each path and each stone
that created each of our lives___
such is hearts of Tennessee tatter.
Sadness and sorrow will soon die
leaving shadows in the dust
and light to brighten our loved ones way___
God's love is all that really does matter.
♥(¯`'•.¸(¯`'•.¸*♥♥*¸.•'´¯)¸. • ' ´¯)♥
Gina Ann Day
2012 ©
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