Memories of a House

I have sat through wind and rain my insides have felt the sorrow and the shame of those who lived and left with dreams one way or another. My walls remember happier times between the lovely and the pride of birthday joy, babies cries older folks laying dead upon the door whom neighbors helped with such great care to their neighbors pain Barefooted children running through the fields of waving wheat yellow corn as high as the machinery that plowed them Babies strapped on their mothers’ backs who reached down to pick the hoary headed cotton waiting for the gin Chickens pecking in the red dirt eating all the bugs away Yes, I remember well the secrets of myself.