‘Dancing in the Doorway, in Featherbed Hollow’

I can still hear the deep throaty sound of the cam on his Granddaddy’s flathead V8 truck, as he ripped through the dusty roads of Featherbed Hollow; one of the roads that led to me, that steamy summer. I stood in the doorway, moving my hips slowly to the electric hum of cicada, while Billie Holiday’s…

A Journey after the Storm, Mimosa by the Forest and the Broken Window House

  After the storm water drops, cool upon my hair, like tears from leaves, from the forest. A gentle symphony sounds… of falling drops cascading from different heights, cicada buzzing and a hidden owl, watching. The scent of rain, I will remember, like I remembered when I was a child… A fresh sweetness from the new damp, electrically…

(The moments that align) ‘Lucinda Mae, Jupiter and a Pig Named Pearl in Dusty Spirit Springs’

  The moments I speak of now are carved deep within the child I once was. The breath of my soul, fearless in the path of the great mystery, I stood proud, in the place of my time; in the place of my knowing… I am Lucinda Mae. I was born and raised in Dusty…

Early Town, the Carnival Lady and An Attic of Secrets

  Early Town, the Carnival Lady and An Attic of Secrets The days set slow in Early Town where shadows arrange in mysterious shapes under hazy trees of late summer. I walk along a dry path; a dusting of cinnamon shimmer rises and settles in a traveling breeze across the field of milkweed and yarrow.…

Dreams from the Wood Porch

‘Dreams From the Wood Porch’   A stirring of rust colored leaves rise ethereal with clay dust, as the girl child dances under the hazy sun of the afternoon heat. Not yet Angel gold dipped in sin and prayer, her tinkling laughter is matched by the cicada drone that beats with hypnotic fervor. He rocks…