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Remembering Daddy…

05 Nov

thOGHXDHP0

The Chickasaw Farmer

“A small bit of prose a tribute to Daddy”

Rickety old man stood on the cotton wagon a tin of yellow salve in his hand.
Rickety Old Wagon

Rickety Old 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 Old man to

call “quitting time”.

Rickety Old Wagon

Rickety Old 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 Old Wagon

Rickety Old Man

Tar bottom sacks filled with soft white gold weary feet follow two old sway back mules down a rutted road.

Rickety Old Wagon

Rickety Old 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 Old Wagon

Rickety Old Man

Mules stop at the fork of the road as the cotton pickers walked into the dark of the night the Old man’s heart filled with appreciation, because he is just an old Chickasaw farmer trying to survive inside a “White Nation”.

Rickety Old Wagon

Rickety Old Man

©2015.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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5 Comments

Posted by on November 5, 2015 in Memories

 

Tags: , , ,

5 responses to “Remembering Daddy…

  1. frankregan17

    November 5, 2015 at 5:54 pm

    Very evocative

    Liked by 1 person

     
  2. artandmoondreams

    November 8, 2015 at 1:32 am

    A beautiful and lovely tribute.

    Liked by 1 person

     
  3. dixietwilight

    November 23, 2015 at 7:38 am

    Lovely words…

    Like

     
 
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