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.
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