Sultry Southern Sunday

Sultry summer deep south not only a season or a climate, it is a dimension I float in it submerged... A sinuous southern life oblique and sometimes slow old beauty in salty thick air warm blood sea misty and fragrant... Come forth my pouting southern lady hazy honeysuckle in the heat we lie down in green pastures Sunday love in the valley of death... We raise the waters of the mighty Mississippi to a rolling raging boil our fingers do all of the praying she anoints my head with oil... Holy humid sultry Sunday I choose not to spend it alone swing low, sweet chariot coming for to carry me home... ~ ~ ~ ~ ~