Southern Elegy

Crumbled listlessly in the old porch rocker Smoking a cigarette, cursing the shadows His flaming orange tip lights A world of carcinogens as he Doubles over coughing, spitting up blood. A life of moonshine Stealing and pilfering Numerous women and unknown children A few honest days of working in coal mines Have left their malignant imprints. The coonhound bays at the moonlit sky Ensnared by brambles Near the rotted porch where his Master fights to recover and reach for Another non-filtered cigarette. Sultry air, no chance of rain, Nonstop sound of cicadas, Lyrics for a song of Southern summer heat Invading and debilitating the senses.