To One of My Homes
There’s no way to stand back far enough to show you how big it is,
all the living that has gone on under its arch.
Our family is in Louisiana, and I shirked this blog, packed our stuff, and went there – way down South, where the Live Oaks cover an acre and several centuries. This tree has seen the Mississippi swell higher than this, knew the land well before the sugar cane.
We stand in the sun and have our rituals.
We let watermelon juice run with dirt down to our elbows. We talked levies and church, prayed for family, hurt for Joplin, and made loud noise at several tables. We took a drive, and I held a dog in my lap. He stuck his head out the window. We were quiet at times.
The real Summer air blew in, and I called it temporary, and even that made me smile.