Childhood spent on a golf cart
riding through our pawpaw’s land
No path
No plan
We return when the sun comes down
and the bugs comes out
just in time for dinner
Granny's roast and boiled custard
blessing our lips
cushioning our hips
PawPaw sits next to her
making fun of her cooking
That is how you know
she did a good job
He can’t put it down
and he doesn’t eat much
He makes fun of her
All in good sport
She laughs and rubs his shoulder
Their eyes light up
in fermented love
They were the finest bottle on the shelf
He taught us to drive
at 14
He taught us to shoot
at 12
He made us laugh
He made us mad
He made us southern women
But not southern ladies
because what’s the fun
in that
Maybe we weren’t raised right
But we were raised well
He was a king
A pilot
A doctor
A hunter
A gentleman
A giver
A lover
A fighter
A father
Long live the king
And long live he shall
In our hearts
In our minds
In our children’s souls
In the spirit of this land
In the ripples of this lake
What I wouldn't give
to be on a golf cart
racing through the backwoods
late at night
nothing but the bugs
and the deer
and our headlights
as disturbance
