They Were the Best of Times

Summer’s in the south,

Rooted deeply in deep back country,

where planes hardly heard;

train whistles rarely blew,

and city sounds never happened.

Every morning,

Grandma would teach me to fetch the eggs.

At night, we would say our prayers,

And she would tell me,

“Get yourself an education, son,

you only get one chance at being smart.”

Grandpa taught me how to work the land.

How to plow and seed,

patch worn down fences,

chop wood for the wood stove,

and look beyond what is in front of me,

and see that which waited out there for me to grab onto.

“Treat the land right,

and the land will multiply for you.”

Weekend’s would come,

family and friends would gather round;

tables set three deep,

filled with country smells;

fried-chicken piled high, golden brown,

mashed potatoes steaming a white heat,

corn on the cob glistened in the afternoon,

and black-eyed peas by the thousands;

though they never stared at me even once,

along with all the other trimmings sitting there,

waiting on the invasion from our bellies.

Women-folk in the parlor talking,

men on the front porch talking manly things,

and I would sit under an evening sky,

cranking the handle, making homemade ice-cream.

Nighttime was special, Grandma would say,

“That’s when all God’s children come out to play.”

Those were the best of times.

Now, the house is faded and worn down,

the ax sits in a corner of a shed, rusted;

the ice-cream crank, broken in two pieces.

Echoes of voices play over me like an easy waltz,

as I walk around this special place one last time.

Gone is the chicken-coop and patch-worked fences.

Gone are the early smells of breakfast.

Gone are the long days of unforgiving heat.

No more Saturday evening dinners,

no more banjo strumming,

like Grandpa would do on Sunday.

No more tall tales,

no more hugs.

I couldn’t help but cry, for the last time,

But I feel them every day raining inside me.

They were the best of times.

*****

The above photo is the old homestead.

This house felt the births of 10 boys and 2 girls.

It was torn day some time during the mid-1990's.

That's one of my uncle's, not the best view for here,

but the only one I have.