"Oh what memories..."
by April Owens and Haley Creamer
Peering back with glazed faces.
Across the bridge, at the warehouse,
The sounds pitch the beaten-tin roof.
Hot still air popped right through the screen door.
A snuffy smell, smell of cooking tobacco.
Golden dried leaves the shade of magnolia.
Live oak shade, the blue sky.
The creaking floor from the next room,
Leading to the wrap-around porch against wainscotted walls.
Tin covered well near the tarpapered barn.
Front of the house, the beam of light grows shorter.
South of the house, the lit doorway.
Behind the house, room blooms dark.
Peering back with glazed faces,
Only one time for fun.