I Recall

I recall a dirty sidewalk running in front of grandma's house with bumps and cracks from the roots of ancient white oaks Meandering down to the levee with cane poles and sack lunches crickets and freshly dug earth worms Barefoot in careless summers I recall one low spot beneath a straggly Chinaberry filled with pitch-black delta dirt washed in by summer rains Shuffling through and digging down burying our toes Often now I recall when the heavens are shrouded in grief when darkness closes at the edge of vision I recall a porch light flicking on in the distance I recall grandma’s trembling soprano calling calling me back home