New Orleans thieved my heart at the start of spring,
my stomach dropped along the bayou
across to Mobile on train.
She stopped long enough to sing
in keeping with the rain.
Atlanta's pink sky roaring,
sore throats to spotted ring,
caught a cold thru Chattanooga
winding north then west thru mountain bends.
To Tennessee, the accident,
where money grew on trees.
Stashed my pack behind a bush
til night passed by in a rush.
Waited for the sun to rise,
high above Tallahassee plains,
to warm the fire ants and cement
to return south on blacktop highway.
Copyright © Jane III | Year Posted 2014
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