Wow Gary!!!!!
carol
----- Original Message -----
From: "Maryann Hazen-Stearns" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Tuesday, January 08, 2002 9:58 AM
Subject: Re: New: Red
> Gardawgy, this is outstanding. A few minor tidy-ups below, but nothing to
> crit. Well done, friend.
>
> CW, Mary :O)
>
> --- garydawg <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> >
> >
> > 2. RED
> >
> >
> > red as a bayou sunsets
> > red as a humming bird's throat
> > red as an unseen stop sign
> > red as the shirts Tom's mother died [dyed]
> > for him from flour sacks
> > and second hand calico
> >
> > tomatoes are as red
> >
> > Tom St. Croix was red
> > as his father was black -
> > a shock of woodpecker red hair
> > sat above a sienna face
> > potmarked with scarlet freckles.
> > The sheriff used to say
> > he's the only coonboy I ever seed
> > that can blush. [lol]
> >
> > Tom's momma was dead
> > pole axed by Big Tom
> > while she while she shelled [omit one while she]
> > pecans two days after Tom birthed,
> > her hands stained.
> > Big Tom was hung
> > from a peckerwood tree,
> > back striped like a cardinal's robes.
> > Tom an orphan raised by Granny Leboix.
> >
> > red as salmon eggs
> >
> > Me six and a half, him older
> > by half, Tom was by bestest friend. [my]
> > Summers with my mangy
> > redbone, Blue, we would raid
> > Old Man Crockett's watermelon patch,
> > old Crotchety Crockett.
> > When heat waves painted mirages
> > across the tobacco fields, [no the]
> > we would hid in bushes [perhaps no would, or hidE? or is this the
> dialect?]
> > along the Apicolalacha River
> > and watch the Beniua twins
> > skinny-dip in their drawers.
> >
> > Winter we bucked wind
> > to search draws and shore
> > for treasures riding on the floods.
> > Spring was for crayfish,
> > bullhead and wild strawberries
> > Summer we sunburned
> > and Fall stained our lips
> > with the last persimmons. [delightful stanza]
> >
> > red as a trip to the woodshed
> >
> > But we were not of a kind,
> > though I could sit at his table, [extra space here]
> > he never sat at mine.
> > His time at our house spend [spent]
> > delivering goods baked
> > by Old Granny Leboix.
> > As we grew Daddy would hint
> > I needed new friends, and come
> > 4th grade we separated,
> > Tom through with schooling,
> > his kind worked instead of learning.
> >
> > Then the sun set
> > and red turned to black -
> > the Beniua twins found drawerless
> > near the river, near a mile
> > from where Tom pulled
> > a rusty wagon to deliver Granny's pies
> > and elderberry jelly.
> > Near naked, bruised
> > to new shades, they threw Tom
> > into the square just as Daddy and I
> > pulled in with the buggy.
> >
> > red as cheap wine
> >
> > Blue trotted over to Tom,
> > sniffed the nearly dead body
> > and hackles raised growled
> > at the crowd of men around Tom
> > and jumped the meanest man there,
> > Old Crotchety, who let off both
> > barrels of his shotgun, buck hitting
> > the dog and enough hit Tom
> > to allow the men to get home early.
> >
> > Four years latter, a drifter up near [later]
> > Baton Rouge confessed to what he done
> > to the twins before the floor
> > moved beneath his feet. [this is so similar to The Green Mile...]
> >
> > Such things happened then.
> > We forgot and moved on,
> > Why did they have to shoot my dog?
> >
> > red as blood soaked dust
> > red as a dog's breath in July
> > red as hemlock berries
> > red as oak leaves In October
> >
> > Christmas red,
> > independence
> > and Valentines traded
> > in the 4th grade
>
> =====
> Good Cheer & Be Well,
> Maryann Hazen-Stearns
> "Under The Limbo Stick"
> http://www.geocities.com/Faerhart/
> also available at these locations:
> http://www.vivisphere.com http://www.amazon.com
>
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