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.
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