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Wednesday, February 11, 2009

A Natchez Childhood

Goodbye, Charlie 

You know you've lived too long 
when you're still alive after the trees 
you planted have died of old age. 

 The air is turning and the leaves 
the hurricane left crumble underfoot 
like distant memories. 

 The sidewalk at Main and Commerce, 
where Cee Tee, all crossed eyes and paranoia, 
combed his greasy hair. 

 The auditorium. 

Sy, bent half in two 
over a wheelbarrow 
selling chewing gum and peanuts 

His cowboy hat and skin, 
black and lined as a story. 

 Violins at night. 

 Nellie lost to the flames, 

Dabney's beautiful eyes, Leigh Ann's hands 
and the bay gelding at the county barn 
that sixteenth summer. 

Mud swirls in patterns in the river, 
arrowheads and pottery shift 
on ancient sandbars, disappear, 
appear again. 

I thought I heard you 
calling from the porch, 
but it was just the subtle 
thunder of a passing storm. 

 by Elodie Pritchartt 

 *Photo of Sy, the candy man courtesy William Stewart Collection, Historic Natchez Foundation

3 comments:

  1. loved this!! so many memories and colorful people...one day mayb they will b talking about U !!!U r leaving your mark for sure !Blah Blah ... ME

    ReplyDelete
  2. Nice poem - it all brings back memories.

    ReplyDelete

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