by Laura Summerville Reed
The place where my heart
was homegrown is
razed to the ground
People and places can slip through your hands
It’s no longer my town
but I’ve eaten my pound of dirt here
so it owns a part of me still
I return to cultivate the loamy mix
running through my veins
I wander with the kudzu
no destination for these roots
just resiliency and time
I drive familiar curves and straight-aways
With the roadmap etched Into my mind
and in my hands that grip the wheel
Like a fortune teller reading in reverse
The present becomes an indistinct penumbra
eclipsed by the passing of days
These sun dappled rolling byways sprinkle freckled laughter
across a sixteen year old girl’s smiling face
Her hand is on your knee
her heart is in the back seat
and her eyes are straight ahead
The Fish's Tale by Laura Summerville Reed
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The Fishs Tale By Laura Summerville Reed I was seven. It was summer. The sun was bright and I was baitin a hook. It was a rare family vacation. Id been sent ahead by my father, equipped with...
Evelyna by Laura Summerville Reed
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Evelyna by Laura Summerville Reed I cannot write in rhyme. My mind will not work that way. I place the blame for this maladroitness of speech squarely on my capably, creative mother. She, who...
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