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The Chickasaw Farmer

22 Jun

The Chickasaw Farmer

“A tribute to Daddy”

Rickety ole man stood on the cotton wagon

a tin of yellow salve in his hand.
Rickety Ole Wagon

Rickety Ole Man

A hot southern sun hides

behind the willows on muddy Flint Creek,

cotton pickers sweat falling on parched lips

taste like salty brine while they wait for the

Ole man to call “quitting time”.

Rickety Ole Wagon

Rickety Ole Man

Young, old, children, women and men bloody

fingers cut by the barbs of the cotton boll dig into

the old yellow salve tin.

Rickety Ole Wagon

Rickety Ole Man

Tar bottom sacks filled with soft white

gold weary feet follow two old sway back mules

down a rutted road.

Rickety Ole Wagon

Rickety Ole Man

Crimson clouds from wagon wheels whirl around

tired bodies and drained minds; feels like pickers were

working in the cotton fields since the beginning of

time.

Rickety Ole Wagon

Rickety Ole Man

Mules stop at the fork of the road as the cotton pickers

walked into the dark of the night the Ole man’s

heart filled with appreciation, because he is just

an old Chickasaw farmer trying to survive inside a

“White Nation”.

Rickety Ole Wagon

Rickety Ole Man

©elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

http://www.amazon.com/Honeysuckle-Memories-Ann-Johnson-murphree/dp/150029070X/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

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Posted by on June 22, 2015 in Poetry

 

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