Southern Blues

A poem by Keli Barrett.

2020

2021

Months--Poetry
Poetry

en-US

text

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Keli Barrett_Southern Blues.pdf

Copyright protected by Keli Barrett. Use of materials from this collection beyond the exceptions provided for in the Fair Use and Educational Use clauses of the U.S. Copyright Law may violate federal law. Permission to publish or reproduce is required.

Note on transcription: This transcription may not reflect the poetic form established by the poet. Please refer to the PDF file of this poem available in the Files section for proper formatting.

Southern Blues

The wooden floors creaked under my weight.
I sat in the wicker rocker on the porch and pondered our fate.
Dirt had long settled on the road Papa took to town.
That was several days ago and he hadn’t been back ‘round.

As I shelled the purple hull peas, the sound of them hitting the tin soothed me.
Mama continued cleaning the house, just a humming. Did she not see?
Brother went fishing to catch some supper after he fed the animals and chopped wood for the fire.
Sister finished her chores and was hiding in her room reading some book about forbidden desire.

There are things I don’t much understand yet, but I still think I am the smartest of us, by far.
How can none of them see that Papa left us for that southern belle down at Pete’s bar?
Mama’s voice startles me, and I wipe away stray tears. “Bring them peas in here so we can cook.”
As I stand and turn to go inside, even though I know Papa ain’t coming home, I give that long dusty road just one last look.