Where the Wind Blows
The big events
are Craft Shows.
Quilts and handmade candles.
Glass blocks lit up with pictures.
Wooden crosses.
I watch the people strolling
through aisles and the
flowers and snowmen.
They greet each other in
Thick, slow Southern drawls.
There are many labels given:
Redneck.
Bumpkin.
Hick.
All synonyms for
Stupid.
But I see something Different.
I see something genuine.
Honest and candid,
in the old ladies' hands
as they finger the quilts,
husbands trailing behind.
I see hearts uncorrupted by fast-paced concerns.
Servants' hands
ready with a casserole, hammer, or
Prayer.
Maybe I see in roses,
but I see a strength
That will stand
through the fire.
Albeit accompanied
by a long banjo drawl.
11/21/09
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