Saturday, May 13, 2017

Saturday commute cxli: Red night and blue






   He was country-shy and hardly looked my way,
   just stepped onto the porch and talked to Dad
   about the weather, Shoeless Joe, the best
   type of knife to skin a catfish with.
   until Dad winked at me and went inside.

   We listened to the tree frogs and the crickets
   talking up a storm compared to us.
   You'd thought we'd been struck dumb, hardly a word
   until I said in an off-hand sort of way,
   "This sure would be a nice night for a walk."

   We followed the footpath down to Broad River Bridge,
   leaning out into the dark, upstream
   Eureka hummed, each pane of tinted glass
   blue and pretty as a town-church window.
   He didn't say a word, just took my hand.























Cy Twombly

Alessandro Twombly
1965

Untitled
Acrylic and watercolor
  on paper


Ron Rash
  My Grandfather
  Comes Calling
Spartanburg
1998©







No comments:

Post a Comment