The Old South

A Feast Of Fall And Racism

After we stood around the counter, buffet style plates of turkey, beans, squash, potatoes, and stuffing, while MsB said grace, after our Thanksgiving feast, like four beached whales with our full bellies, out on the front porch in Dodge. A warm October evening,  I listened to Dad, MsB and Lex discussing the dismantling of colonial and […]

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From This Place Am I

Standing on the covered porch, with that old Oak Tree for shade, awaits a woman who saw two wars, and whose ancestors bloodstain from the civil war lay in the closet in the hall. The tobacco barns off in the fields, as time went on, leaning more and more. Along dusty roads my Dad spent […]

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